


Stay'in Alive, Bitch.

by CassanderRoshack



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cassander Roshack - Freeform, Continuation, F/F, James Moriarty - Freeform, Jim Moriarty - Freeform, Juliette Dante, M/M, Moriarty is Alive, Moriarty/Moran - Freeform, NSFW, Other, Roleplay, Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty - Freeform, Sherlock Holmes References, Traveling, mormor, sebastian moran - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:12:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 115,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassanderRoshack/pseuds/CassanderRoshack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written with the beautiful Juliette Dante as James Moriarty and Cassander Roshack as Sebastian Moran.</p><p> Three years after the Sherlock Holmes jumps off Saint Bart's hospital and James Moriarty supposedly commits suicide, the criminal comes back to claim what's rightfully his own. Sebastian Moran. But when he returns, he finds his proud tiger a shell of what he once was. James and Sebastian don't have time to even speak before they are on the run again from those who want the Empire- and James' head on a silver platter. The two are thrown into chaos once more, running from the demons of their past, themselves, and the people after them now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                Sebastian was sitting up in bed for once, slowly drinking out of a whiskey bottle he'd gotten up early to get. The window was open and the sun streamed in brightly. It would have been nice. Jim was next to him, still fully clothed since they had escaped London the night before. A bird flew by the window and he took another large gulp. Eyes red and sore. He couldn't get around the fact that Jim had come back for him- after so long of being gone. He felt...drained.

                "You're honestly drinking this early?" called the voice from beside him. Still coiled in on himself like he was sleeping, black eyes peered up at the sniper thoughtfully. Slowly, he eased himself to sit up, glancing around the familiar room. Escaping England had been the only choice at the time, but coming to his old hideout motel might not have been the smartest decision. James raised his arms above his head, stretching out before settling back down. "You need to eat."

                "Yeah." He answered him softly. The bottle was almost empty in his hand and it was large bottle. The light coming in was a tad bit bright, so he moved to tug on the small curtain rod hanging to the side, turning the blinds closed. Sebastian glanced at him again taking a few gulps of his drink. He was so... so... not tired- just... he couldn't explain it, "Not hungry..." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

                "Right." James sat up, reaching out to take the bottle from him before setting it out of reach. He was hardly in a better condition, but he was allowed to be. He's spent the better half of three years on the run. Sebastian... Well, it was just different. Long fingers reached out, burying themselves in the mess of blond hair before dragging them through to the ends. It was an absent-minded habit he'd picked up years ago with Sebastian, his own hair usually far too short to toy with. "How many times do I use that excuse with you and, yet, you still force me to eat something?"

                "You need to eat. I don't feel like it." He whispered, looking at the bottle. Sebastian could reach it if he wanted to. The man flinched slightly in his touch before leaned his head back- closing his eyes. He was shirtless for once, showing his battle scarred torso but kept his back pointedly away from James. "I'll eat later... promise..." There were noises of cars driving by outside and he inclined his head toward Jim.   
  
                Unlike usual, James didn't put up an argument. He understood that he was still treading on thin ice with his sniper. Leaving in such a way, he was lucky that he hadn't received a more brutal welcoming besides… besides the rooftop of course. Still, everything wasn't as good as James had almost dared to hope it'd be. "Promise?" A thin smile toyed at his lips as he dragged the heel of his hand up the back of Sebastian's head, massaging it as his fingers passed through.

                He was enthralled in the touch for a bit before his gray eyes opened again. His mouth opened then shut, like he wanted to ask things that he knew he shouldn't. "Promise." At first he stared into the other's dark eyes before getting up, bones creaking and easily seen through the skin of the taller. He coughed into his hand and shivered, looking for his shirt. "What do you want me to do?" The light was shining in through a crack in the blinds that he immediately closed. It reminded him too much of what happened yesterday. The mirror in the room was practically shouting at him that he looked like something the dog ate and spit back up for the cat /to/ drag in.

                Resting his head against the headboard, black eyes followed the movements of the other man. He could read the past three years on him like a book and, despite what it usually did to him, he felt no small amount of guilt. Ideally, he would have said something to him, but the bastard was too loyal for his own good. James needed to play assassin for those years and having Sebastian around was just another person to worry about. Besides, if he had ended up dead... The criminal eased onto his feet, stretching himself out before walking around to the dresser. "Eating would be the preferred thing," he drawled, looking over to him.

                "Besides that." He would have said without humor and pulled on the shirt he was wearing the night before. The blond leaned over and took a comb out of the one bag that he'd grabbed. It was full of money and the said comb inside. His guitar case wasn't too far away, having his riffle hidden within. "I'll eat later." Sebastian glanced over at the bottle and took it back to gulp down the rest. With a snort he threw the bottle in the trash, he'd get another one later. Jim looked at him but he wouldn't look back. There were still so many unanswered questions. He didn't know whether to hit him or to kiss him again... maybe both. God, he still didn't seem real. That was the true reason he didn't sleep, he felt like he'd disappear. Maybe... Maybe... He'd succeeded on his last mission. The bathtub, the knife. He took a small smile on his face.

                The criminal came near, leaning against the post of the bed as he looked Sebastian over. So many things had changed in these years, yet so many of them managed to stay the same. His eyes darted down to his own bag, laptop, mobile, and tablet. His wallet was still on him and it'd take a few weeks to transfer all of "Morairty's" files to "Harper's." The thought made him grimace. Holmes had gotten quite a bit of what he'd wanted, James all but chased into anonymity. As far as anyone outside the parameters of the place was concerned, his name was Richard James Harper, little more than a switch of first and middle of his birth name. Still, he'd miss the purr that always came with 'Moriarty.' "You have questions. Go on," he drawled, looking up to him after a few moments. "You're curious."

                Sebastian glanced at him before shaking his head, "It's your business, not mine." He replied softly and walked to the window again, looking out it. In his eyes, he didn't deserve to know what happened. Why Jim left him out in the wind and the waking up alone for the next few years. His eyes shut tightly and he rested his forehead on the window. His mind was turning again, /What if I did drown myself. What if I died and he's here with me. That would be nice.../ He laughed quietly, "It's fine... I don't need to know."

                He watched him walk back, shaking his head in almost amusement. Yes, a good bit of this was his fault and he knew that, but he also knew ways to fix it. Well, at least he imagined that he did. "You don't need to know, no, but I'm offering you the chance to know." James twisted his legs under himself, taking a seat in front of the edge of the bed. "If the tables were turned, I'd want to know what happened to you."   
  
                He froze in place for a moment, "Nothing happened to me." Sebastian immediately said. It sounded rehearsed and a tad bit forced. It took him a moment before he realized that he wasn't dead. Even though that would have been wonderful. He had too many questions, "Where were you all this time, Jim? You were happy with me- I thought you were... Then that bastard got involved." Sebastian paused, voice going even softer, "Why didn't you tell me? I texted you that morning. I got up and made you coffee and I made breakfast. Turned on the television to see you had blown your brains out all over a god damn rooftop."

                A low sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he leant his head back into the hardwood. That was the truth. James could see it in the way his body trembled that it had all but decayed; he'd barely been surviving, James' one regret, if he were honest. Rising up to his feet, James shifted to sit on the bed so that he could be both seen and heard. "I've been all over. Keeping a step ahead of Holmes. I was… am, happy with you, which is why I left. And I didn't tell you because I wanted you safe." His eyes were fixed across the room, studying the peeling wallpaper. "Holmes' goal was to wipe out the network. I gave him a rabbit trail to follow of members of the web who needed to be taken out; those who were dishonest, double-crossed, or those who'd lost their use. I kept away from you because he followed me. If you were there... James had almost ended up in some foreign coroner's office once or twice and he knew how to play the game. He couldn't have even imagined trying to keep Sebastian along with him. As good as he was, James would have worried and one of them would have been dead.   
                  
                Sebastian looked back at him and shook his head slowly, they all sounded like good reasons…even to the person who had been left behind to deal with the mess afterward. He still wished that he would have dropped hints. At least told him what do to if he ever died or went missing. He had just... broken into pieces. There was no way to tell him how much it hurt to see someone you loved- had he even told him he loved him that week? -he couldn't remember. After a few moments he sighed, "If I was there, I would have hindered you." Why wasn't he angrier about this? Why did he just listen and nod in agreement? He wanted to be angry but he just couldn't muster it. "Alright."

                James didn't even bother to argue with him, just shrugging his shoulders and making a sort of positive noise in his throat. That was more or less the case, as harsh and cruel as it all sounded. "Oh." He answered. Jim had no idea how much he had ended up that way.   
  
                Dead. God, would he ever lose that tone in his voice? Was it always going to be that dead sounding? His eyes found a car on the side of the road and remembered that was the one they took the other night. He cleared his throat, barely a millisecond worth of water came to his eyes and it was gone. Sebastian had shed his tears a long time ago. He turned, "I understand, you don't have to say anything more." The sniper plastered a smile- a fake one but so practiced- on his face. "What's next, boss?"

                It'd have been a blatant lie to say that he didn't recognize the expression and couldn't ready the smile for what it really was. Getting to his feet, James shook his head, counting himself lucky to be receiving only that. "Regrouping," he mumbled, pulling a few things from his bag before turning to face the sniper. "Go get something to eat, won't you? Or at least something to drink that doesn't have alcohol in it. I'll be out in a bit."   
  
                At first he was going to argue with the other but shut his mouth. Why argue anymore? Sebastian sighed and nodded, heading out the door. He was so unused to the light that he flinched from the brightness and headed down the stairs slowly since they were on the second floor. There was a vending machine and he wasn't allowed to have alcohol. He wondered if he could use his old flask but immediately remembered that he had left it. After buying a bottle of water he made sure Jim wasn't watching from the room and headed toward the liquor store. Jim had never said he couldn't drink- just that he had to drink something non-alcoholic first.

                Slipping into the loo, James began to strip down. Black eyes fell over his torso, an almost amused expression on his lips. He'd rather forgotten how bad the wounds were. He hadn't dressed them in a few days, something he was going to regret, he knew that. Easing the bandage off with no small amount of hisses and groans, he dropped it to the floor along with the rest of his clothes. Turning on the faucet, James sighed in contentment as the hot water rushed over him. It'd been something that he'd missed quite dearly in his time abroad. Staying in cheap motels and with those who could barely make ends meet hardly afforded him the lifestyle he'd become so accustomed to in his time as the Crime Boss. But, now... James tilted his head back, relishing in the feeling as clean water swirled across and in the cuts and bruises he'd accumulated. It certainly was helping.

                Sebastian was on top of the car hood, an empty bottle of water next to the car and a fresh bottle of vodka in his hand. The sun slowly rose over the nearby building so it blocked him from the ray. A new flask rested in his back pocket as new sunglasses hid his darkened eyes. "Get over yourself, man. He's had it a lot harder than you and he doesn't need your pity party." He laid back, looking up at the sky and spread eagle on it. He kept drinking. It made him feel a lot better.

                Almost half an hour later, James emerged from the shower feeling more, dare he say it, human. Stepping up to the mirror, he examined his reflection thoughtfully before picking up the razor, shaving away the scruff that'd grown over the years. In a little more than five minutes, he looked a little less like the man he'd become in the past three years and more like himself. Picking up the wad of hair in the sink, he tossed it to the rubbish bin before slipping out with his towel about his hips. Despite the frigid air, James was content to stay like that for a bit. Sebastian wasn't here and there was hardly anyone around to impress.

                Stepping down beside his bag, he pulled his tablet up from the depths before waking it up. He'd have to get a new tablet, something else that he really wasn't looking forward to. He paused for a moment before sitting on the bed, something out the window catching his eye. James laughed to himself, amused by the sight of Sebastian splayed out. Drinking, yes, against an order, yes, but it was still a little too early for anything... severe. It was almost amusing, he decided walking back to the bed and plopping down on top of it.   
  
                After turning over, still tanning himself on the car, he laid there for a bit. His stomach let out a growl but he ignored it. That was a usual occurrence for this time of day. He straightened himself up. Sebastian looked at the window and decided it was safe to smoke as well. It didn't do that as much as the drinking, maybe a cigarette twice a week if not three. He inhaled deeply and looked around; the cars were slowly getting more frequent. It made him nervous. The man finished his cigarette and put it out what was left of it on the concrete before watching the small pieces of tobacco twist away in the breeze. The sniper shook his head before putting the vodka in the back of the car and getting another water bottle. He hit his head on the roof of the car before getting out completely. The hair was standing up on the back of his neck. Being in the military so long had given him a sixth sense almost when something was about to happen.

                Laid back on the bed, James stared blankly at the device before him. Getting a new one and rewriting it was going to be a pain, he knew that and he wasn't looking forward to it. It'd taken the better part of four months to get this one going, now, trying to rewrite it with all new information was not going to go well. Still, it was either this or... Running a hand over his face, he picked up a notepad and pencil from the bedside table and began to scribble on it. Most of it was illegible, but it was also written in his own computer lingo. It was something that only he personally understood. It was useful for things like this. Even if anyone found it, no one else would be able to read it.   
  
                Sebastian felt as if eyes were on the back his head for a moment, feeling the atmosphere around him change. He stood from where he was crouched by the car and scanned over the area like the trained soldier he once was. The traffic was almost completely gone. It was eerie since people should have been going to work about this time of the morning. His eyes flicked across the building rooftops and the different rooms lining the complex. There was absolute not a window insight that was open. Heart beating more quickly than before, he narrowed his eyes and walked back up to the room where Jim was. He knocked before entering and taking his guitar case in one hand, "We've got company." Sebastian's eyes briefly roamed over the other man before tossing the guitar case on the nearest flat surface- which happened to be the bed- and unlocked the case.

                Looking up from his notebook, James hardly made any effort to cover himself up when Sebastian walked in. However, the words seemed to change the whole temperature of the room. In one sweep, James was on his feet and struggling to pull his trousers back on. "Where?" His tone was low as he shut the door, hobbling around before finally getting comfortable in his own clothes. Scurrying towards the opposite side he pulled the mirror above the dresser forward, opening up the cupboard before pulling a rifle from there. It was old, to say the least, and hadn't been shot in years, but it was something. He'd hid it there during his last stay. Dropping back towards the bed, James checked over it to see if it was still functioning. "What does it look like?"

                "Two on the far rooftop, snipers. Team moving down the road as we speak. Three or four in the woods, end of the complex." His eyes were like hawks as he put together the rifle carefully and with ease though he hadn't touched the thing in a few years. He tossed the other man a small bottle greenish bottle of gun oil after using it on his, "Use this." Sebastian stepped away from the led lined guitar case and moved to the window. The black SUV drove up to the residence and four men got out. "I think they all have meetings to hand out SUV's and the same cheap suits." The sniper glared at them through the window. His back was against the wall, he felt the cold insulation even through his shirt. "I'll take the two on the roof and the three- make that four, coming out of the woods if you take the four on the car."

                Muscle memory took over, James oiling up the gun until the parts moved like they were supposed to. Sidling up beside the other, he took a peek through the glass, inspecting the group of them. They weren't the Yard or any other organization with Sherlock. He wouldn't even begin to delude himself into thinking that it was the government. "I've seen better dress at a funeral," he mumbled, raising the rifle a little higher up as he leant back into the wall and away from the window. They'd have to move. Again. Looking over to Sebastian, he smirked and nodded his head. "Sounds brilliant. Ready when you are."

                "Let's start the party." His lips curled back, showing his shark like grin. This was better than alcohol. So much better. The rifle was of his own design and fit into his hands like a brilliant piece of art that belonged in the hands of its artist. He fired off a shot at the car, making the men duck for cover, some actually got on the ground. "Aren't trained." The snipers looked at the people getting seemingly shot at while he stepped out and leveled the scope to his eye. Two quick shots. One in the chest, the other in the head. Both man's blood splattered the rooftop and he laughed lightly turning towards the woods. The four coming out of the woods hadn't seen the chaos yet and fired through the pointman's knees. She screamed and the other's backed off. He took them out with three brief shots. He saved his seventh bullet in his clip and final for the pointman’s skull.

                James wasn't sure whether to be happy that he was acting normal again, or concerned that he was. Shouldering the muzzle of the rifle over the window, James just barely peeped over and managed six clean shots for the four. So, gunfire wasn't his forte. If he was honest, he would always prefer hand-to-hand over a gun. Didn't mean that he couldn't shoot one or that he didn't, it was just the preference. The first was hit twice, almost three, but his comrade had gotten in the line of fire. The pair fell to the ground like overgrown dominoes, their third following in their path. The fourth was a little more clever, trying to hide. The first shot landed the stomach, the second the shoulder, and the last his skull. "And then there were none," he observed, eyes sweeping over the scene below.


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian lowered his gun, complimenting Jim's shot. He'd improved since he last seen him fire a gun. "And then there were none." The taller repeated quietly, still a small smile on his face. Technically, he hadn't killed anyone since the men who broke into his flat a couple months ago. He shouldered the gun and chuckled, "Looks like we got ourselves a new car too. Much better ride than the Opel. Give me a few minutes and I'll switch the plates with another car." The man eased his rifle off his shoulder and looked him over, seeing the curves, shadows and inclines of his body before pulling his gaze away.

                "Good. James picked the rifle up before setting it on the bed. "Make sure there's gas in it. We've got another road trip by the looks of it." The idea of going into hiding was that no one was supposed to find them. James shot a glance at his mobile and sighed. "Before you go, give me your mobile and anything else electronic that you have on you." The words almost hurt. He'd be going cold turkey for God knows how long. The feeling made him nauseous, to be honest. Still. They'd end up picking up a motel for the night, probably, regroup and try to find a flat to rent out. That sounded plausible, really. A sharp breath through his nose, James banged his fist against the bedpost, hissing to himself. The throbbing pain managed to calm him down, James shaking his hand as he started to pack up the few things that he had, again.

                "Of course..." He trailed off seeing Jim look to his phone. The taller shook his head, shifting his stance, "I don't have anything on me 'lectronic wise." His old slang faded very briefly into his tone. There was no police sirens outside or anything besides the calmness of the room. Or at least he thought it was until the other merely broke the bed post. "I.." He started to say but decided it was better for him to stay quiet for now. It was quiet again and he left out of the hotel room. Things were awkward moments between them now and the sniper didn't care for them. "Shit, I might as well just start drinking again..."   
  
                Cracking open the back of his mobile, James set to work to destroy the device, making sure that nothing on it was useful. Proceeding to do the same things with his laptop and tablet (and trying not to realize exactly what he was doing the whole time), he eventually finished the deed. Pouring the bits into the rubbish container, James emptied it from the loo window and into the alley between buildings. Ducking back into the bedroom, James made quick work of packing and throwing his bag over his shoulder. He sighed, cleaning over it to hide any prints before moving onto the rest of the room. By the time he was finished, the place was clean and empty. Bag over his shoulder, James checked out, paying cash the woman at the front desk before stepping outside towards the car.

                The woman who he had given the money to was halfway ducked behind the counter. She only popped up to take the money and then lower herself back down. Meanwhile on the outside, the bodies were completely gone and the dumpster had moved several feet from its original position. Sebastian was waiting in the car, new sunglasses over his eyes as he smoked a cigarette slowly. It was something almost out of a magazine how slowly and deep his breathing was to make him look like he practically posing for the other man. He gave three fingers upward on the hand attached to the steering wheel; the pinky, ring and middle finger, to show it was all clear. As Jim approached he offered a small smile, "They have a gun cage in the back. Includes grenades." His voice was hoarse from the smoke, but added to the effect of the scene he was creating. "Had couple thousand bucks between them too." He had brandished there ID cards and put them on the center console for the other to look at if he wished. Soon as the other was situated into the seat he put the SUV into reverse and started to drive.

                Coat collar turned up, James only chanced a glance when he was half-way across to the vehicle. Sight of the other (and he called him dramatic) tempted a smile on his lips, head down to hide his laughter, he paused beside the door to toss his bag into the back. "Oh, you know, because grenades are always useful." Sidling into the seat, James twisted around to look on the back. High-tech, definitely, but still not up-to-date. That was good. The last thing they needed were tech-savvy stalkers. It definitely wasn't government, then. James leant back into his seat, clicking the seatbelt into place as he leant the chair back. So, a newcomer? Or an old client? The thin smile returned as he pillowed his arm behind his head in thought. It certainly promised to be interesting. Tuning back in, James glanced down and picking up the cards, flipping through them. John Smith, Morgan Jones, Aaron Wright. Boring names. Burn names, probably. "Emergencies only, then," he mumbled, setting them back. Credit cards would certainly be easy to track. "Find any cash?"

                "Nah, Jones had about five bucks on him. I've still got plenty of cash in my bag though." He'd lost his sulking tone when he answered this time. The rifle being against his shoulder brought a little more of himself back. He cracked a window now the cigarette smoke wouldn't filled the car. His eyes glanced back to see if they were being followed and they weren't for now. That was strange… there were a lot but surely they had some sort of backup in case things went sour. And of course they had. "Private company after you then?" He asked and looked around the car. What if they had something else…He held up five fingers with the pinky and ring together to show that their might have been a bug. Sebastian slowly pulled the car over to the side and pulled out his pocket knife.

                Right. So, they'd be living off of that for awhile. It certainly wouldn't be a bad thing. James just hoped it wouldn't be long before they could settle, again. As domestic as it sounded and felt, James enjoyed having a home. A flat, granted, but it was still a permanent residence. It'd been something to look forward to for the three years. Getting back to a warm bed, hot water, promised meals when he wanted them, his study, his electronics, and his tiger. Granted, he'd all but lost every one of those things. The criminal glanced from the corner of his eye at the other, smiling to himself as he watched the grey smoke waft from his lips. At least he was on a start to getting something back. Attention caught at the signal James nodded, but merely shrugged his shoulders at the question. "Hell if I know," he lied, leaning back into the seat, clutching his coat around him. "They were men with guns, that's all we need to know, isn't it? I'm not the type to get too acquainted with my attackers," he breezed, tone conversational, but tired.  
  
                Sebastian exited the car slowly once it had come to a full stop and flicked open his pocket knife. It shined in the sunlight as he went immediately into the farthest backseat and started to search. He went thought every place he could reach until he got to the seat right behind the driver's side. He used his knife to cut through the floorboard and he waved it at Jim with a smirk. The cigarette was held between his lips before he tossed the little bug ahead of the front tires. He tested the radio once to see if there was any electronic disturbance before starting the car again. "Clear." He said before running over the bug with a small grin on his face. "Cold?" The sniper asked, his eyes glancing at the other.

                Leaning forward, he looked over the dashboard to the bug on the road. They'd planted on the vehicle, then. So, that meant that they that there was a chance they'd take it. James didn't like the way that that sat with him in the slightest. They were being set-up. Never a good thing, but it'd be interesting to see what came of it. The man settled back, mind racing. They'd have to dump the vehicle, eventually, and do something to shake them off of their trail. It wouldn't be a bad idea to sweep the car over later, see what else was in there. There had to be a GPS chip of some sorts. Or something. They could use it to their advantage. It wouldn't have been the first time James toyed with GPS readings. "More or less," he mumbled, looking over to him and shrugging. "It's all fine, though."

                Sebastian hit the heater button on the dash board before going back to being quiet and reserved like before. It wasn't in his nature to be talkative to begin with, and if it were possible, he had learned to keep silent even more while the other was away. Honestly he had his own thoughts. Most were about what Jim was wondering. They had clearly been set up to take the car. He sighed, thinking about the jobs he was going to have to take to start earning again. Killing was fun, sure, but not when you had to do it to put food on our table every night. His light eyes glanced at Jim before sticking to the road. It was going to be an awfully long car ride... After a few hours in silence his stomach let out a growl and he didn't seem to notice it in the slightest. "Can you hand me the bottle in the back?" He asked out of the corner of his mouth, referring to the vodka bottle he had been drinking out of earlier.

                There was a noise of surprise, James not quite expecting to feel heat blossom underneath him. Laughter eased out as he leant back into the seat, growing used to it. Before long, James was out, twisted onto his side with his back to Sebastian with the belt still wrapped around his waist. His mind continued to drone on for the longest time. Flitting between scenes he'd been through and ones he hadn't, it was hard to choose which was correct. Eventually, as it always did these days, it started to go downhill. Fights that had been successful suddenly turned wrong. The voices and screams that filled his head made his stomach churn, the man breaking out into a cold sweat. His heart was racing, though his physical appearance didn't change an iota. Finally, James just blinked away, breathe trapped somewhere in his chest. Slowly, he came back to the realization of where he was and that he was safe. Relatively. That was still taking some getting used to. Eventually, he figured, the nightmares would fade and it'd be normal. Maybe. "Bottle?" He sat up a bit, glancing to the back and snorting. "You are  _not_  drinking vodka and driving. If you're drinking, I'm driving."

                The other glanced over at him, a small frown coming to his face. "You didn't complain about it last night when I had the whiskey." He furrowed his eyebrows again and glanced over. There was a faint sheen of sweat on the other man's face and Sebastian leaned over just enough to rest the back of his hand on the other's forehead. After a few moments he expected to be swatted away so only did it long enough to feel his temperature. He wasn’t running a fever, so that was good. Jim had never technically told him everywhere he had been, it was possible that he could have gotten a disease. With a snort he immediately dismissed that idea. James Harper or James Moriarty was more than likely the most clean bastard in all the first world countries. "You alright?" The larger decided to settle on for the right question. There was just no way you could simply say,  _'I see you are having night terrors, I've had them too, do you want to talk about it?'_ or hell,  _'I care, need to talk?'_. Jim didn't work like that and Sebastian knew it.

                The other snorted, pulled the seat up to the correct position. "Hell, last night I was too exhausted to say anything. Unfortunately for you, I'm awake to say something now," he chided, voice light. Settling his eyes on the road in front of them, he could only begin to guess where they were. As a child, he'd only seen Dublin and the suburb they lived in around there. He'd only been four when his parents were murdered and he was whisked off to England to live with his deranged aunt. It was a strange childhood, James imagined it had some impact on his life now, though not much. Eyes glassy and train of thought somewhere thirty years ago, his attention was caught as a hand rested against his skin. Raising his own, he batted the other away, throwing a look at the other. He was tempted to ask something, ask what the hell he was doing and if there was a reason that feeling his forehead was necessary. However, he spoke first. "I'm just fine," he insisted, turning his attention back ahead of them. "Are you alright, then?"

                He allowed himself a very brief light chuckle at what the other muttered. "You know I can drive under the influence of alcohol, drugs, blow-jobs and a lot of other stuff." Sebastian hadn't been out on this road in a long time; a good few years at least, since his job in Dublin. "I say we go to Germany. Hell, maybe even the states." He was fluent in German, not to mention he could pull off an American accent better than most Americans could. It took him a while to answered Jim's question. "Fine." That was almost a code word between them too. Almost seven years ago a job went bad in Istanbul and Sebastian had come crawling back to the consulting criminal as he once called himself.  _I think that was the first time he actually showed me he cared…Pulled me out of the dirt in the alley way and dragged me home._  The thought was scarce and he shrugged to himself.  _One of the last times too…_ That was the first time Jim had let him know what the meaning of 'Fine' really meant. 'Freaked out', 'Insecure', 'Neurotic', and 'Emotional'. They drove on, his stomach growled, he ignored it, the bottle stayed untouched, and nothing really changed. Cars stayed away from the road until it was time for people to leave work. "Quiet out…" He tried to start a conversation.

                The man looked up, expression a little hesitant. He started laughing, hand pressed over his mouth to keep himself under control. His shoulders shook, tension easing from them. "That is why you were never allowed to touch my car. Hell only knows the things that you've done while driving," he replied, tone far more dramatic than was necessary, but that was part of Jim Moriarty. When Sebastian brought about the idea of fleeing to another country, James wasn't sure whether or not to agree or flagrantly reject. Leaving England had been hard enough. He'd left on loads of trips, but coming home to Queen and country was always something that he took solace in. Ireland was at least close. The ferry ride between Scotland and Ireland wasn't much and the train ride wasn't a problem in the least. Leaving port at six, he could be back in London by three that afternoon. "Definitely not the states. There's enough idiots in the British Isles without having to deal with fifty states of them," he began, leaning against the window. "I'd prefer to keep in the European Union. Germany isn't bad. Venice is lovely. I'd even consent as far as to blend in with those French bastards. They make up for their blatant idiocy with their wine." He drew silent, again, waiting for Sebastian to answer. When he did, he was hard-pressed not to smile a bit. Two blokes lying through their teeth. But, was it really a lie if they both knew what the other meant? James was too tired for philosophy, glad that Sebastian's stomach allotted a distraction. "Let's pull over, eh? The car probably needs a breather and you sound like your stomach's committing cannibalism."

                "Oh you allowed me to touch your car, you allowed me to do a lot of things in your car with you." He was laughed too for a few moments until the moment passed faster than a ship in the night. Sebastian sighed and swallowed, remembering those few good times they had and scratched the back of his head. "Damn." He thought before looking back to the road. "I like Italy. The French still have my pictures everywhere. I thought you hated the Irish…" The other assumed that that was just something that had changed with everything else. "I can't agree more about the idiots in America… though it might be better to go there now we miss the people after you. They might be deterred from the idiots more than we are. I've still got some friends in the Italian mob…" He trailed off thinking about where they could go until Jim spoke up again and almost accused him of cannibalism. Sebastian looked down at himself before nodding, "It'll stop soon. Besides, I don't taste good unless I'm covered in barbeque sauce. We've been going for a while so we'll stop…" Truthfully he hadn't eaten in… today should have been Friday. So maybe three days? Or was it Saturday… he couldn't remember.

                James tilted his head down, as if trying to shy away from the memories of it, smiling despite that. "It was once or twice when broom closet in the office complex wasn't close enough and the flat was too far away. And it was never when you were driving. Yates might have, but the things that Yates knows..." If there was anyone of his staff that he might have missed, it would have been Yates. He'd been the first one to sign on as an employee. Sure, his role had barely lifted above chauffeur and errand man, at times, but he was always the one that he could count on at any given moment. He'd been there beginning to end from the time James started to the time he came back. He was the only one who knew about James' disappearance and not death. He'd been charged with taking care of Sebastian. James imagined that he succeeded the best that he could. "Alright, no France. Ah, I still hate Ireland. Will until the day I die. They've become nothing more than the Homeland of Saint Patrick's Day, fluorescent beer, and accents that make me want to slaughter them all. Still," he shrugged his shoulders. "It's home whether I like it or not." Falling silent, he nodded to the bit about America. He'd been there too many times to even think of settling there. It was too tame. "Italy is probably our best bet, though. You just said you have contacts, I still do. Besides, I've always wanted to live in Italy. It's gorgeous." The criminal snorted softly at his comment, faced away from him, but with a wry smile on his lips. "You never suggested that one before, tiger." There was a teasing note in his voice as he caught a glance back at him before resuming his gaze out the window.

                "Yeah, Yates was a good guy." He smiled at the memory of the old man who was kind to him after Jim left. "I left flowers for him a few times." Billium Yates had died of a heart attack not long after a year later. It was sad that Sebastian had been the only one to show up at his funeral. "No Ireland, France, America, or England- I doubt Scotland. I say Italy does sound great." He knew it would be easier to work for the mob and get good pay as well. It took only seconds for him to make a decision. "Italy it is. I like that idea." Sebastian offered a small smile, "Heh, yeah, I suppose you always liked the cream better…" He frowned suddenly. Remembering that those… instances or anything else one might have called it were gone. Jim was more than likely wanting his sniper back. Not lover. The taller realized immediately realized that his jaw clinched and his blood boiled at the idea of someone else with Jim. More thoughts of how the other could have been with other people started to bounce around inside his head and he leaned back. "Oh." He muttered realizing it and swallowing. Why did it…. " _Ouch."_ Was the one word echoing through his mind. Immediately he slammed the door shut and promised to not make any more advances towards him. It was his job to protect Jim. His only job.

                Left flowers for... James felt his stomach drop, expression sobering in an instant. God. The man ran his hands over his face, a feeling of remorse swelling through him. He would have missed something like that, too. For a bit, he was silent, content to ruminate in his own thoughts. It wasn't until nearly a minute after Sebastian spoke about Italy or Scotland that he nodded his head, lips twisting into the same barely-there smile. "I've always preferred sweet things," he admitted, glancing back to him. He noted the change in expression, an almost hostile look flickering behind his eyes. Strange. Especially after... Right, so maybe they were just stories to him, now. Hell, James almost couldn't blame him. After three years of secrets and playing content to be dead, he was surprised that he was slipping back into reality so quickly. Naturally, there would be a disconnect, somewhere. Getting back to how things were had never occurred as an option until that moment. Strangely, he imagined that he was alright with that. He still had him, to some degree.   



	3. Chapter 3

Once Sebastian barreled out, James followed at a slower rate. Easing his legs onto the ground, he stretched himself out. Being stuck in that position for so many hours did not do kind things to his back. A little more at ease, James walked behind the car, letting his fingers run over the bottom of it. Before they left, he'd want to check under it. It was a common thing to plant trackers where few would look. Standing up, he started towards the smaller building, his own stomach pitching a mutiny.

                Sebastian had waited for him outside the door to the little diner there. A flaming redheaded waitress was skating around from table to table from the inside. She blew a large piece of bubblegum every now and then, only glancing up at the new comers. Truckers or people passing through were a regular occurrence. The sniper only gave her a brief moment of attention as well, taking in what she looked like in case he had to kill her later. His stomach had stopped growling with no surprise to him. His body rarely reminded him he was starving himself anymore. Now that the idea of...  _"Damn it, stop thinking about him with someone else. It's only going to make you mad and- but what if he found someone else? What if he found someone better? Maybe that's why he didn't come back. Maybe I'm just a fall back- No, you are a sniper for Jim Moriarty and his personal body guard. Nothing more. Get it through your head. You should have moved on the day he supposedly died you moron."_  Without anyone being the wiser, he'd learned to talk to himself quite well inside his head. It was a normal thing to him to just go off in a silent tirade. Sebastian held the door open for him, something he knew was what he once did before everything happened. His ears picked up the other's stomach growling and gestured his head toward a booth that was close to the back and he could watch the doors. Unfortunately all the seats were beside a window so there was no way of getting around that. The redhead came over and smiled at Sebastian, which he blankly ignored. "Coffee. Whatever he wants."

                Stepping into the place, he relaxed a little into the warmth. It was nice, comfortable, really. The patrons here hardly paid them mind, only an elderly couple, the woman turning her nose up at them. At this point in his life, James just learnt to smirk it off. If the pair of them had been in a better mood, James might have hung all over Sebastian just to annoy the bitchy broad. At the moment, though... It was harmless, the lot of them really were. Nodding back, he followed a step behind him before sinking into the booth. Looking up at the waitress, he tried not to wince at the horrible accent of hers. There was a reason he tried to keep his covered up. "Uh, two. And chips. Vinegar, too," he drawled, nodding her off before shifting, head against the window and lounged out in the seat. He shifted around for several minutes more, finally flipping his legs over the empty booth seat behind him, head dangling off of the edge of his own booth. Respect for furniture had all but dissipated ages ago. "Should start heading towards the port, eh? Or do we want to try and catch a flight?" he asked, voice barely lilting above a whisper.

                The other didn't answer him for a bit. He was lost in his own myriad of thoughts until Jim's slightly annoyed look brought him back out of it. "We can drive. A lot safer but slower. Train would be faster so would ship. Planes require too much time, security and money." His tone didn't lose its softness, nor did it lose its calm. It had been a long time since he lost control and that would remain intact. The woman brought the two coffees and such before grinning down at Sebastian. "Will there be anything else?" The sniper didn't even look at her, "Menus would be preferable." She seemed to realize she had forgotten them and blushed out of embarrassment. "Oh. I'll be right back." With one hand he took the black coffee cup, pushing the sugar and cream towards Jim remembering the way he liked his coffee. There was no telling how many times he had made an extra cup waiting for him to come home. He didn't speak again.

                "To get to the Union, I meant," he mumbled, looking up at him. "Ireland's an island, tiger." His smile was warm despite the teasing tone in his voice. He hardly blamed him for moments like these. James knew he was exhausted and he knew that he himself was. It'd been so long since he's slowed down, now, he was speeding right back up, again. Running his hands through his hair, he let out a low groan, easing his way to sit up once the woman came back. Black eyes took her in for a fraction of a moment, a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face, noting the way she smiled at Sebastian. Usually, he'd had brushed it off, not have given a damn. A lot of things had changed, however, since 'usually.' "You remembered," he drawled, taking the two from Sebastian, index just brushing the back of Sebastian's hand as he did. It was hardly anything anyone would notice, but it made him feel a bit better, he justified to himself as he knocked the pair of substances into his drink. Three years was a long time, but, if it were up to James, he'd retain his claim on the other.

                Sebastian had absolutely no clue there was any sort of claim on him or a claim at all in general. He was far too preoccupied to notice the fingers brushing along his knuckles. "I thought you agreed to the boot." His light eyes flicked to the woman coming back with the menus and physically sighed, "Thank you, Madilena." The woman was surprised at him since her name tag was turned around. "You have other customers." Her eyes went wide and there was something in his voice that sent warning signals through her skull. Immediately she hurried away, her shoes making tapping noises despite the noises around them. He turned his head back to Jim, "Of course I did. It was my job."

                "But how do you plan on getting from here to there when we're on an itty bitty island and Italy is part of the continent." He smiled a bit over the lip of his coffee mug, taking a short sip. His lips twisted downward. It tasted of shit, but it was the best that he had, at the moment. Feeling the woman walk back over, he took the menu from her, almost stopping, however, at the tone. Setting down his mug and opening the book, he smiled down at it. Alright. That was just fine with him. "But..." James cut himself off, thinking it not best to mention how long it'd been since they'd had any sort of drink together. "It's nice of you to remember, is all."

                "I'll always remember." He muttered taking his one drink. She had left the menus on the table and that's where they would sit for now. Sebastian eyebrows furrowed for a moment in confusion before remembering where they were. "Oh… we're still near Dublin." Why had he thought they were… He shook his head running a hand over his face and through his hair. Where had he been thinking he was? Back in Spain? "Sorry." He muttered and watched the people around the room. People came and went for a while before the sniper gestured toward the menus. "You should eat something besides chips."

                Whether or not that was supposed to be nice. It also deepened the criminal's guilt for leaving. He didn't regret it, no, but he considered himself lucky that he hadn't ended up with a black eye or broken rub for his return. Or worse, having no one to return to which if Sebastian hadn’t sworn he wasn’t doing it, he would have believed he had walked in mid-process on that. That thought alone had haunted him for so long, wondering if Sebastian was even going to be there or willing to see him, again. It wasn't easy keeping tabs on the man either, not when the whole of his network believed him dead minus one who died only a year in. "A boat might be the best choice, then. The best choice is Dublin to Scotland. From Scotland, if we're discreet about it, we can make it from Dover to France and, then, it's a few day drive from there Italy." James ruffled his own hair, trying to think a little more on it. The last thing they needed to do was to go back to England, still, it was their only choice, at the moment. Air travel would be a whole other living hell. They were far more thorough with their background checks there. "Don't apologize." James took another sip of the disgusting drink before adding another dollop of cream into it. "And you should probably eat something, too. You're the one who needs the energy more than I do."

                Sebastian offered him a look but no smile or word of agreement. Just a small nod of understanding. His eyes roamed over the other, taking him in that he was sitting in front of him. The night he had come back into his life had been so sudden that he just went along with it. He would tell him what his plans were… What they still were once his job was finished. Now that the road they had been on was cut off and royally fire bombed, there really wasn't anything worth sticking around for once he got Jim safely to Italy. A ghost of a smile formed on his lips before looking outside, "Sounds good… might as well ditch the car now and pick up a new one. Too many people here are already feeding their faces so no one will notice a car going missing… we'll get you some better coffee too." Jim was good at hiding a lot of things, but the faces he made when he drank the coffee were enough for even a blind man to notice. He laughed lightly, "I don't need anything. My… stomach shrank…" Someone was listening to a music player sitting on the other side of Sebastian booth and he liked the trance sound to it. His head leaned back and he gently pushed the menu toward him.

                "Add another count of grand theft auto," he mumbled, laughing a bit to himself. It wasn't that he minded. Hell, he had several counts of murder against him, if they ever caught on. They never would, though, James was certain. He'd weaved too many paths, laid down too many lies. If they caught him, he'd be a 'John Doe' caught for whatever. The chances of that, though, bordered on impossible. It wasn't bragging, it was merely the truth. The bit of the coffee made him smile, the man glancing down into his cup. "It's caffeine." Taking another swig of it, he grimaced and made a bit more of a motion of swallowing it. "Or not." That last bit, though, about a shrinking stomach. James rolled his eyes. He somehow doubted that, even if his stomach had shrunk, that it changed his need for food. He didn't verbally argue, just let his foot tap against Sebastian's as he pushed the menu back at him repeatedly, gaze focused on another point altogether. If being annoying got the point across, he'd accept that. It did in most cases.

                He felt the foot and sighed drinking the coffee to avoid picking up the menu. He'd eat when he really needed to. "We've got a lot between us. I doubt a car would make anyone immediately want to track us down unless it was expensive." There was short laugh and nothing else at the way his face scrunched up. Sebastian eventually gave in and opened the menu, deciding he'd order the first thing he saw. Instantly the waitress was back and he was extremely close to telling her off. "Regular breakfast, eggs and sausage." He muttered at her, her fingers shaking at the dark look he gave her. She turned to Jim, "What will you be hav'in, Sir?"

                "But we've always had expensive tastes," he drawled, smirking a little at the other's attempts to avoid the menu. "Besides, say that there is a GPS in the car that we've been driving, having one stolen from here where the GPS is located might make them suspicious. So, well, don't steal one that has a non-removable GPS, yeah? And pray to my mum's God that no one recognizes the plates." The laugh he gaze off appeased the other a bit. It was nice to hear it, even if it was short like that. It brought him back to something far more simplistic than chasing and being chased in the middle of fucking Ireland. He still couldn't get over the fact that they'd gone back to the place he promised that he'd never be, again. It was like waking up from a nightmare only to realize you're in the place that you dreamt of. "Eggs, beans, and chips. Bottle of vinegar, too."

                Sebastian gestured for her to go away and she immediately did. He didn't want company at the moment- besides Jim, of course. "You'd be surprised how many people don't remember their own keys when walking into a diner let alone remember their plates. We'll just have to go for an older model car. A lot of GPS aren't removable these days…" He trailed off, watching the diner start to lose more of it patrons at time went on. Everyone wanted to get back on the road before rush hour for people going to work, even this far out. The redhead had one of their orders ready already and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. It seemed like his scaring act had worked on her now they could skip the formalities. She brought Sebastian's before going back to get Jim's. He eyed it, not really wanting to eat the food at all. "Expensive tastes aren't exactly what I meant."

                He nodded his head in agreement. Sometimes he underestimated the number of idiots, having the unique privilege of shooting the ones he dealt with on occasion. Well, making Sebastian shoot them. Up until recently, his skills with a gun had been almost laughable. Alright.  _Extremely_ laughable. It wasn't that he was able to protect himself, it was simply that his hand-to-hand and close-rang skills always rivalled his distance. Moriarty had always been known as killer with a blade, quite literally. Up until he'd hired his own assassins that was how he eliminated his client's problem-folk. "No, but they can get you into trouble once in awhile," he acceded, nudging his foot, again, encouragingly. In some part of his mind, this was almost poetic justice. James had lost count of the number of times that Sebastian had all but forced food down his throat, it was nice being able to return the favour. It seemed to be part of their relationship, at the moment, give and take and look out for the other. It was hardly different from how it used to be, though, it seemed quite the opposite.

                The sniper nudged his foot back when the waitress brought the other's foot and cast him a look before picking up his fork and taking a bit of sausage. It tasted good. It did. But the gag reflex in his throat didn't like it at all and he quickly swallowed some of his coffee to keep it from coming back up. He coughed into his hand and tried again, literally choking it down from time to time. "We'll go with your plan." He muttered eating more. His stomach was not agreeing with him and his face took a greenish color. The waitress didn't come back and he put down his fork.

                James watched him off-handily, gaze darting between the sludge in his cup, the bit of interest going on outside and the man in front of him. The way that he struggled and seemed to almost fight with the food was disconcerting. Had he really gone this, James would venture, far in his absence. The seemingly never-ending feeling of guilt threatened at him, again, James attempting to bat it away with thoughts of 'I came back' and 'I didn't ask for this.' At a loss for better words, the phrase "You look awful" escaped his lips. He frowned at his own words, but brushed it off. "Saw the loo back towards the opposite side of the building when we came in, if you need it."

                He choked it down enough to answer. "I know I do." The food sat in front of him and he cleared his throat. Feeling it start to come back up. The alcohol he had on his stomach suddenly reminded him he clearly should have gone for something less greasy. "Sorry… I know I'm not one to be around when trying to eat." Sebastian looked away, knowing that he must have made the other lose his appetite. He drank his coffee and the black tar made it worse. "I'll be right back." Rising from the seat, none of the other customers spared him a look. Though he tried to maintain a normal pace he still walked faster than normal. When he was in the restroom- one of the cleaner one he'd seen in rest stops or towns- and heaved up everything he'd just eaten. The waitress came over to Jim, "Your friend going to be alright in there?" She asked, her accent laced with worry.

                Watching with an almost interested expression, the shift was compelling. That was the best way to put it. From a scientific standpoint, he thought it odd with the sudden shift and both paling and colouring of the other's cheeks. It wasn't that he was glad that it was happening, on the contrary, rather having seen the other eat and not have to stop for awhile longer. He waved the other off when he went to the loo, not objecting in the slightest. They'd need a bit longer before they hit the road, then, he imagined, draining down what remained of the shitty coffee. Pulling another face, James was tempted to order another water from the reoccurring waitress, but found himself almost hesitant to speak. It wasn't her fault, it really wasn't. Sebastian was attractive, even in the state of decay that he was, now. A few years prior, James had taken no small amount of pride in the fact that he was with him. He was a pretty tiger, something he'd said numerous times before, both to the man's face and behind it. However, the way things stood and the way she'd been drooling over him earlier didn't sit well with James. It wouldn't have sat well with him no matter who'd said it, so, it was a natural reaction. Of course it was. Catching a quick breath through his nose, he glanced down at the dregs in the bottom of the mug before answering. "Yeah, yeah. My boyfriend's just fine, the food didn't agree with him, that's all."

                Her eyes widened and she nodded repeatedly, the color returning to her face. "O-Oh…. Well if you need anythin, please don't hesitate to ask." She didn't come by again and Sebastian stayed in the rest room. Sebastian was sick for almost fifteen minutes straight until he washed up his face and went back out to meet Jim. He rested his head on his arms that were crossed on the table. Many of the patrons had left and another couple walked in. Chatting up the waitress and getting sat right behind the sniper. He raised his red rimmed eyes and reached out for his coffee cup before deciding against it. The waitress brought over two glasses of water before walking over to serve the other two. His eyes pricked and he drank the water slowly. Soon as the waitress was out of the way and in the back of the room, he felt cool metal press to the center of his back. The woman slid into the seat next to Sebastian, "Ello love. Remember me." She whispered, a gun pointed at Jim underneath the table. "Don't move." Sebastian said to Jim, tell him with his eyes about the gun. The man was right behind him, gun to the base of his spine. "Clara." He muttered remembering almost instantly.

                There came quite a bit of satisfaction as seeing the waitress retreat like a pup with her tail between her legs. Sebastian might have shot him for saying something like that, but, well, Sebastian wasn't there and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt either of them. He was half tempted to retrieve the man by the time he came back, almost worried he'd fallen in. He didn't say a word when he sat down, however, letting him rest. Smaller things, then, that'd be for the best. James allowed himself to doze out, eyes set on the parking lot and debating which car would be the best to use when the other pair came in. He hardly paid them mind, a mistake he wouldn't make after this. Mumbling a 'thank you' for the water, James didn't pick it up, almost afraid of the drink if the coffee tasted like shit. The woman's voice brought him reeling back into reality, turning to face the woman and Sebastian with an arched eyebrow. James didn't even flinch, almost rolling his eyes at the words from Sebastian. With a bloke like that behind him and that kind of purr from the woman, he knew what was under the table, he'd been on the other end of that a million times. Huffing, James allowed a pout to cross his lips as he traced his long fingers against the condensation on the glass. "Tiger, you know how I hate it when you make friends with people who carry guns. Makes for too many problems."

                The woman turned to Jim, her blond head turning slightly. "Oh he's not our friend, Mr. Moriarty." She had a long horse like face with sunken black eyes with a grin too big for her face. Sebastian felt a knife also work it's way into his ribs. "You let yourself go~" The man chucked behind him. "Then again he didn't look to good the last time we saw him." They chuckled softly when Sebastian sighed through his nose and drank out of the cup of coffee again, swishing it in his mouth. It was cold. "Why don't you tell me what you are here for Clara now I can go back to my breakfast." His voice had taken that tone again and she pushed the point of her knife, now he recognized as a switchblade, until it drew blood from his side. The sniper winced but did nothing more. "We told you back then that we wanted Moriarty. He sells at a good price. Lots of people want him." Her body was pressed against his and she cocked the gun, "Dead or alive." The waitress and the cook had disappeared from sight all together. "I'm guessing we're surrounded." Sebastian offered and she nodded. "Of course. It took a dozen and a half men the last time to bring you in. I won't make the same mistake." Sebastian snorted before practically hissing back, "You made a mistake this time." The woman named Clara smiled and raised her eyebrows, "What's that?" He leaned over, took a knife from the table and shoved it into the man's gun behind him before taking her by the neck and breaking her wrist- also taking the gun away from her. The switchblade cut him, but it wasn't deep and he growled down at her, eyes blazing, "You pissed me off the first time."

                His gaze swept over her as she spoke, taking in the bits and all that he could about the newcomer as she sat there. Over-confident, obviously, took solace in big weapons and numbers, taunting, married, but James would almost venture that either she had close ties with her employer or he was the highest bidder. "Well, what can I say, running away doesn't leave time to properly look your best. You obviously understand what we’re going about." There was a smile in his eyes, but his lips kept their business-like thin line. You could tell a lot about a person by their reaction to a slight on their appearance. Attention brought back onto Sebastian, he let his fingers rest against the table, drumming silently, but firmly as he listened to the conversation. There wasn't a note of surprise that someone wanted a bounty on his head, that'd always been the case (before, however, he'd had a small army of highly-trained assassins to protect him), but there was a none-too soft snort at the quip about the manner in how he must be brought in. "Well, then, your buyer is a complete and utter idiot. I'm of no use to him dead, and this isn't preservation speaking. I've more secrets than your small, feeble minds could imagine and all of those follow me to the grave if I die." The criminal watched with obvious interest as the scene unfolded, utterly amazed by the way that Sebastian took control of it, again. Yeah, he'd seemed to forget exactly who he was carting around with him and this was a brilliant reminder. James picked up the gun once it hit the floor, taking a shot at the man behind Sebastian before sliding down from the booth onto the floor, turning, waiting and ready for some kind of gunfire to erupt.

                In a movement that more fluidness than water itself, Sebastian broke Clara's neck with a twist of his hands and watched her drop to the floor. He remembered every second with her in that dark cell. A group of people had come to the flat in London not a year ago. They'd broken in and kidnapped him. For the next few months he was tortured and left there until they tried to have him executed. To say the least, it hadn't gone entirely to their plan. He took the other gun that was on the man, removed the knife end that he had shoved in it and checked the magazine. It was quiet. The sniper spat what was left of the black liquid out on her face before rolling his shoulders. "Let's go." There was no movement outside and the entire area seemed dead quiet. A window broke and he immediately turned to fire on the other end of the diner. A black canister rolled toward him and with a irritated sigh, Sebastian kicked it right back out the window before it exploded- killing whoever threw it was a scream. "Come on! The French were better at this then you people!" 

                Reaching back, he took the switchblade, shutting it and shoving it down into the rear pocket of his trousers. It was nice, just from glancing at it. Newer and it'd take time to get used to, but certainly nice. It'd be easy to open in combat, better than his own. The criminal tensed a bit at the sight of the canister, relaxing almost as quickly as the other kicked it from the building. A smile twisted at his lips as he looked around the place, eyes searching for some sort of life. "So, is there something you should be talking to me about? Nice little psychotic girlfriend of yours? And here I thought I was special," he teasingly whispered, trying to ease himself with a form of a joke. His hand shook slightly against the heel of the gun, but certainly not enough to mess up his shot. His eyes fell to the woman, darting back for a moment to remove her heel. Picking it up, he tossed it out the same window and waited for some kind of response from their enemies.

                No one moved outside and Sebastian glanced at him, only just barely holding the glare back at the term 'girlfriend', "It doesn't matter." He grunted back and pricked his ears. Someone was on the roof. He sighed, going behind the counter for the little diner. They had beer, which was good. The sniper cracked one open for himself before taking the other bottles, a pot of grease from the kitchen and a lighter he'd picked off the man that Jim had shot. "Molotov anyone?" A grin came across his face, one that was a little bit frightening. Even for Jim. He drank down the beer he had, ignoring the way it made him want to puke it right back up and started to dip rags that were laying around in the oil before stuffing them inside the bottles- regrettably pouring out some of the liquid beforehand. 

                A nearly smug expression crossed his face, the glare a little more reassuring than the other could have known. "Obviously it does matter," he argued, still keeping his voice low. "She's out to get me and has her stupid thugs trying to kill the pair of us. Threat on my life usually gets me a little worried about things." Hot under the collar, too, but he wasn't nearly back to his usual self to find it erotic, yet. Watching the other, he bit back a laugh, taking one from him and freeing it open. He took a deep breath through his nose before tipping it back, finishing it off. For everything that he did hate about Ireland, he had certainly missed their liquor; it was certainly a hell of a lot better than the shit he'd been given in England. Damn Brits knew nothing about liquor. Handing it back to him, he rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off a bit of the buzz given by adrenaline and quickly drunk alcohol. "Haven't played with those in ages," he chuckled, emptying the next bottle before handing it off to him.

                Sebastian downed two more and made the molotovs quickly. Lining them up for them to grab and throw. The people Clara had sent were getting into position as they drank. “We’ll just have to change that won’t we.” He whispered, eyes darkening for a moment as they lay on the other man. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. Before everything had happened, this would have been one of those moments that they were more likely to make-out than to actually kill anyone. The taller breathed, eyes flicking to the other’s lips before going back to what he was doing- which required leaning away. When he finished, he handed Jim two and took his own. “Throw them out to clear the path and then greet them from behind?” He suggested, skin brushing skin when he hadn’t the bottles over. Not even British vodka- the crap that it was- could send him so quickly into a buzz.

                "Sounds brill to me," James agreed, noting exactly where the other's lips were. Memories, both wanted and not, came back in a matter of moments. It'd certainly been one of the few things that had made their relationship obvious. Quite a number of his employees had been scarred by the things they'd seen. It'd rather shot his 'no business and pleasure' rule out of the window, but that was far from a complaint. Passion and blood always seemed to be the best of companions. "After you," he mumbled, taking the bottles from Sebastian, a little breathless in nature, taking a bit of solace from the slight kiss of flesh to flesh. "Tabhair dóibh ifreann. Means 'given 'em hell.'"

                He smirked before saying, "Lig dúinn rince leis an diabhal. Let’s dance with the devil.” At Jim’s look he shrugged, “I brushed up on my Irish.” It reminded me of you. He added in his head and walked toward the window and stepped out. “Here boy. Here boy.” Sebastian started to whistle and the soldier who were trying to get into position stopped dead. Clara was supposed to kill him they thought. His grin got wider and he pitched the fire bottle. They weren’t nearly as trained as they should have been and aimed at the bottle instead of him. Meanwhile he threw the others he had shoved in his pockets. Less than a few minute, those who weren’t on fire or freaking out were running. “That was far too easy.”

                The man tried not to laugh, the words sounding so odd and foreign dressed in that accent, even if it was the one he envied. Maybe he had been missed and maybe, just maybe, there was a minimal chance of putting things back to the way that the used to be. Never exactly the same, no, too much had happened to afford that luxury, but there might be a semblance of it. The criminal followed a measly few steps behind, gaze sweeping the field. If they did this right, it would work and, if they didn't, they'd still make it work. That was how they did shit around here. James followed his lead, tossing and chucking the bottles towards the masses around. It seemed far too simplistic and far too easy for it to go down like this. Watching them flee, his gaze settled on Sebastian. "It's never that easy."

                “Never.” The ones who had survived were getting into trucks from behind the building and his eyes narrowed taking in the surroundings. Both he and Jim were in the middle of a parking lot. The waitress and cook were more than likely dead. No witnesses. Clear sky. It took a few more seconds of thought before he paled. “Oh shit!” Sebastian hands’ wrapped around Jim before tossing them both to the ground. Jim was about to shout at him when the diner blew up, blasting shrapnel over them. “They weren’t moving into position- they were setting a bomb!” He coughed getting off of the smaller from where he was protecting him from the flying pieces of the diner. His eyes darted around hearing sirens in the distance while he was still on his hands and knees. It was a miracle they hadn’t been… hit… by shrapnel… His gaze went down and he spotted little dark blots of red. It wasn’t anything serious but it still hurt from the tiny shards of glass. “Get back to the car.”

                "Hey! The fuck are you doing! Oi, get--" James felt his blood run cold and his heart all but stop in his chest. The roar of the blast shook him down to the very depths of the soul that he claimed not to have. He'd heard explosions go off hundreds of times, had even felt the heat and rush of air from safely far away. Never before, though, had he been this close to it to almost feel his life in this kind of danger. James swallowed thickly once the air stopped crackling and his heart stopped trying to pitch itself out of his own chest. Looking back over his shoulder, he threw Sebastian a look. "No, really, I thought you were just trying to take me in a parking lot." Rising to his feet, a little tremulous at first, nodding. "We need to get out of here, now." A pale hand gripped to Sebastian's arm before walking towards the vehicle, quicker than was even normal.

                It was more of a sprint. Sebastian nearly threw himself into the driver's seat of the amazingly still there vehicle and started up the car. He half expected it to blow up as well- but when the car purred to life he sighed in relief. The wheel spun hard and the pedal was down to the metal as they roared out of there. He drove in silence for a bit before furrowing his eyebrows. "You thought I was trying to fuck you in a dirty parking-lot when we were about to be killed?!" His voice almost was a higher octave than it usually was in utter disbelief. The man shook his head, "Absolutely unbelievable." Sebastian muttered shaking his head still. He looked down at his shirt that was dotted with blood and saw police cars going the opposite direction. The first police officer he caught a glimpse of had half of a piece of bread hanging out of his mouth comically. If it had been different, he would have been celebrating their near death escape but no... he didn't feel like it. The sniper glanced over, looking at Jim's hand that had been cut on the ground and pulled over gently to the side of the road. Ignoring Jim's question he got out and got the little medical kit from the back of the car before coming back up in front. "Give me your hand." He said softly.

                Hauling into the passenger's side, James didn't calm down until after they were at least five miles down onto the road. Slowly, he started to calm back down until he was resting peaceably in his seat. The adrenaline had died down, bits and scratches now evident across his body with small aches. It wasn't bad, though, the worst was his hand, but, if it wasn't gushing, it wasn't bad. Sebastian's words brought him from his reverie, a smile on his lips as he burst out laughing. "Hey! Don't give me that, I didn't know what the hell was going on. You shoved me onto the ground and got on top of me, what does that sound like to you?" He didn't sound mad, more or less amused, instead. And Sebastian certainly hadn't seen the way that he'd been looking at him in the diner. Truthfully, he'd have preferred that to the exploding diner. He'd have preferred almost anything to that. "And it isn't as if we haven't done much worse," he added as more of a thought to himself. Falling back into silence, he tried to ignore the way his body was hurting and how damn tired he was. They'd need to rest for the night, they both needed it. "What are you...?" James brow furrowed as he stopped the car and dipped into the back. Rolling his eyes, he half offered his hand to him. "Shouldn't the nearly-certified doctor be the one doing this?" he added dryly. "Tiger, I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt."

                Sebastian narrowed his gaze at him before taking the hand with gentle fingers. He took the bottle of vodka from the back and whispered, “It’ll sting.” Of course the other knew that already, but he always said. Even before things changed. “You can patch me up later if you still want to play doctor.” He muttered, voice not going above that tone again. The wound was cleaned with still very soft touches and a concentrated look on the sniper’s face. He started to put a bandage around it slowly. “We’ll head to the shipyard tonight; find a place to rest and then board.” His gaze softened on the smaller and he cleared his throat. It sounded remarkably like an old car trying to start up as he turned away. There was silence again between them before Sebastian decided to finally answer his other question. “Clara and her men were one of the many who came looking for you at the flat.”

                 A nervous laugh broke past his lips, the hand not in Sebastian's clenching beside him as the alcohol was poured over it. He'd almost forgot how much these kinds of things hurt and using alcohol hardly ever eased the pain, on the contrary, it tended to worsen it. "Just a bit," he said tightly, a smile on his lips despite that. "And, yes, it would make me feel better. You're probably beat up far worse than I am, which is why we should be worrying about you and not me." Still, James couldn't find much to complain about. Despite the slight burn, it was relaxing to feel Sebastian's fingers work against his hand, the expression on his face almost bordering on endearing. "Fine," he mumbled, nodding his head in agreement. He was content with the silence, a little surprised when the other spoke. "How long ago? Who else came?"

                “I’m fine.” Sebastian muttered softly still tending to the scratches on his arm. “I’ve had much worse.” The last part was maybe a breath of air that would have been lost on a puff of breeze. He used folded bandages to take care of the one’s that bleed a little and shrugged. “Clara came multiple times. A year after you left. A month before you came back. Plenty of people came. Some tried to kill me, some wanted information, some were trying to be friendly, some kidnapped me, the usual.” His tone was light. “Clara was one of the fouler ones…” Glancing out the windows to make sure they didn’t have anyone coming up on them, he carefully tended to the wounds on his neck. “I stayed in the flat.”

                "So have I, but you were being insistent, so, don't I get to too?" James didn't say much, however, listening to him talk about it. It appeared that even when he was 'dead', no one else seemed to believe it. What'd he have to do? Blow himself up on the evening news? The man winced; too soon. "I'd have liked to stay there," he admitted. Long fingers poised the bit of cotton from his fingers, lifting up the console so that he could move closer and tend to them himself. "Probably the best place to stay, though. I meant for you. It was still protected with security. Well, as protected as it could be. The Iceman a part of any of them?"

  
                Sebastian looked up at him, pain visible in his eyes for a brief moment before going back to what he was doing. “I stayed because I thought you’d come back, dead or alive.” He swallowed and looked away long enough to take a bit more cotton from the medical kit. At least the people they sent after them earlier had good supplies. “It wasn’t. It never was.” He didn’t elaborate on how they died… but he knew. He knew exactly what brutal manor they had died in. “I only heard from him once. He told me that evil needed a day off and let me…” Sebastian trailed off, “…see the body.” He looked out the window again before looking back at Jim, “Clara had partners.”

  
                Dead or alive, wasn't that the popular phrase today. Someone had a bounty on his head, then, always a positive thing. It wasn't like he could change heads, though. James' fingers stopped for a moment in their actions of cleaning out the scrapes on the back of Sebastian's neck. An idea flashed through his mind for a brief moment before he continued his work. James didn't ask, didn't want to know about that. But, the part about the Iceman, ironically, made his stomach freeze. Mitchel K. Crawls. The poor bastard's only mistake was being able to look like him when he had rigor mortis, brain matter splattered about, and a bit of rearranging. He'd called in a favor and it was a brilliant exchange. "I'm. eh... sorry. For that. It..." James cleared his own throat, reaching into the box to pull a white tube out. Spreading the paste along his finger, he eased it over the cleaned cuts. "Must have been hard. I didn't mean for you to have to go through that. It was..." He shook his head, not even sure what he was supposed to say in a situation like that. "Did she? Who?"

                He flinched in Jim's touch a few times but did nothing else. His eyes locked on what he was seeing in front of him. Choosing that he truly didn't want to see the look on the other's face. Weeds that were growing beside the roadway were waving in the wind and it almost had a calming effect to the situation. "No you're not." Sebastian snorted softly glancing at him but still keeping his head straight forward. "You did what had to be done for whatever reason you had to do it in the first place." He flinched in his grip once again. "You're not good at apologizing, so don't bother. It just makes it more real." The sniper hadn't meant to say the last bit but it had come out anyway. It was truth. But a harsh truth he didn't want the other to hear. "A couple people. Clara had three people with her the last time I saw her at the..." He stopped himself again, Jim didn't need to know that they had practically shoved in him in a tomb for a few months to torture him. Continuing after the millisecond pause, "One was Hickory. That's all I know."


	4. Chapter 4

A nearly embarrassed sort of laugh eased out as James started to put a bandage over the cuts. Sebastian was right, apologies weren't really his area of expertise. "Can you blame me? When I'm wrong, I usually just kill the other party," he joked, almost regretting it when he had said it. Bad apology or not, he did regret leaving him like that, he just would have been a problem. A luxury, yes, and a comfort, too, but he'd have been a hassle to keep an eye on. Whether or not Sebastian was able to hold his own, as he'd obviously done today, James would always have that still, nagging voice reminding him to keep him safe, not let a thing happen to him. He blamed the sniper for that, honestly. He'd been just fine before he'd developed an attachment to the other, even if that, too, was a lie. "Real that I left?" He snorted, squeezing the other's shoulder in a non-verbal sign to say that he had finished. "Apology or not, I left, Sebastian. I came back, I always planned to, but I left." Settling into silence, he listened to his explanation, hearing the cut-off in his voice. Hickory. That'd be someone to look up. "Let me see the rest of you," he mumbled, fingers pressing to his shoulder to try and turn him around. "Once we're done licking our wounds, we need to find some place to stay. I need to stop at a convenience store and pick up a few things, also."

                He glanced at him again, still keeping his eyes locked forward. “That’s what you usually do.” Secretly, one that he would never ever break the silence of, he wished a little that Jim would do that to him too. “No, real that you died.” Sebastian nearly hissed at the grip on his shoulder. It was still sore from a couple weeks ago. His eyebrows rose in disbelief, “You were planning on coming back? I thought you were just going to leave me if you were alive or that you weren’t coming back at all.” The car made a pop noise as it settled a bit on the roadside. On command, he twisted himself to show the other his backside. He took off his shirt, feeling the pieces of glass in his skin cut a little deeper. With a grunt it came over his head and he leaned a little forward. He made sure the shirt covered his lower back. The man was so thin that someone could visibly see and even touch his spine. “We’ll head to the shipyard… there is a town up ahead.”

                "But you've always been an exception," he mumbled, pulling the red box into his lap. Right. Dead. To James, it was nothing more than leaving, but, obviously, it was something entirely different to than assassin. Fingers relaxed their position, dropping to the box to sift through the things that were there. James gave a weak chuckle, nodding his head. "I had every intention of returning when I left. I faked my death to keep the employees I needed to eliminate in the dark and in case I didn't come back. Rather at my own hand than at the hand of someone else, for all purposes, that is. I wasn't going to leave you for good.” The man slid down a little more to get at level with the cut. He hissed a bit, running his index around the circumference of the cut. Searching through the box, he came up want for tweezers or forceps of any kind. "Just fine. Uh, you're going to have to pardon my unorthodox methods for this, tiger."

                A smile finally curled onto his lips. Jim hadn’t called him ‘tiger’ in a long time. At least not to his face. He sighed and nodded his head slowly. “I’m glad… I’m glad you came back, Jim.” The other relaxed as much as he could, rolling his shoulders. “Just dig it out with the knife if you have to.” His knuckles tightened on his pants and he silently hoped the other wouldn’t see that he was missing the tattoo of the tiger. The nickname reminded him of it and he tried to change the subject. “We have enough money to buy two first class tickets on the ship.”

                Long fingers spread the skin around the wound to help relieve some of the pressure. A light smile flitted across his own lips as he glanced up at him, giving the other a nod in agreement. "I'm glad to be back." Shaking his head, though, he looked it over, again. "That'd aggravate the skin and you'd risk getting an infection." James did notice the missing mark, an almost pang of loss over it. That'd always been James' favorite, the man making note of that many times to the other before. Also the marks around the tail. They looked like burn marks but he wasn’t sure, Sebastian was keen on hiding it from him. He still remember the first time that he'd found the beauty. "Not first class. Too characteristic. Lower class. Now, relax," he mumbled, breath ghosting over the skin. Taking a deep breath, lips poised against the skin, using lips and teeth to pull and suck the shard out.

                Sebastian shivered, “Uh…” His eyes popped open and his fingers clutched at his pants. Why the hell was this arousing to him? Well, he hadn’t done anything sexual for god only knew how long…. “The- Um- Basic rooms…” He cleared his throat once more his mind going blank for a moment. _“Relax”_ Was repeated in his head and the man shivered again. “Uh- Are you- Is it out I mean?” A breeze picked up a little as his back arched. _“God, if he doesn’t stop doing that soon he is going to give me fucking… What was I thinking?”_

Black eyes flickered upwards at the other's face and James tried so hard not to let the smirk form. It was hard, it really was. The reaction alone was priceless. Eventually, after a good bout more of tugging and sucking at the skin that'd healed around the shard, his teeth caught ahold of the shard and James eased it out of the wound. Spitting it out to the ground, he gave a short nod and wiped at his mouth, the other hand reaching back for the box. "Apologies," he mumbled, though his tone said differently. As before, he applied a antiseptic-soaked cotton swab to the place and started to clean it out. It wasn't deep enough for stitches, thank the heavens, but it was enough to bleed.

                He hissed as it came out completely and leaned forward a little, licking his lips. It surely wasn’t the most painful he’d felt but the glass nearly broke once. The other shards weren’t deep at all and he sighed. “No you’re not.” Sebastian chuckled a little and jumped at the cold cotton piece that touched his back. His pants went down a little, showing more that the tattoo had been burned off and the sniper flexed. “You enjoyed that.” He couldn’t say he hadn’t either. After a few moments he started laughing, his eyes watered ever so slightly and he sniffed still tapering off. “You know, if I was drunker and we were in better shape, we’d be snogging.”

                "Ah, you're right, guilty. Can you blame me, though?" he asked, a devilish smile on his lips. Expert fingers worked the wounds clean and the rest of the glass out. It certainly wasn't as bad as it could have been and James was happy about that. The last thing that they needed was a major injury on the run, those never worked out and he knew that from experience. Black eyes scanned over the exposed skin, the pang of regret returning at the confirmation that it was gone. Shifting his hand to get a better angle at the wound, his thumb brush against the skin. "Drunk, sober, or otherwise, I'd let you without a second thought," he admitted, reaching back for the tube of Neosporin, again.

                “Not in the slightest.” He smirked at the thought and felt his fingers run town his back. The other would have agreed that larger wounds caused problems. Back in the war when he was still a colonel, he saw the other side doing it to whoever did get shot. Even if it was superficial. Jim’s fingers explored farther and touched the burn mark on this back where Clara- technically Hickery- burned off the tattoo. “Even now?” Sebastian saw him reaching for the tube again and he grabbed his hand with one of his. He turned to look at him, “That one doesn’t need to be taken care of.” The man was close to him again.

                The criminal chuckled quietly, taking refuge in the fact that the other wasn't freaking out. It'd already been a long day, far too many death experiences under his belt, having his companion panicking at his advances was not the way that he wanted to end it. "Certainly." James glanced up, surprised at the sudden grip on his wrist. Blinking up at the other, he took note of the expression on his face, interest evident there. "Doesn't it? I'd hate to see it get infected," he stated simply, not shying away from the sudden proximity between the pair of them.

                "It's been there for a while..." His eyes didn't leave black.  _Are you going to let him back in so easily?_  He asked himself feeling his pulse from where his fingers were on his hand. So there was some interest in him still. Sebastian was back to wanting to meet those lips again. Once again the idea of Jim being with someone else all this time turned him off but... but then again... He had tried to focus on the idea of him just being sniper. Just the body guard. Wouldn't that have made his life easier? It only took a moment of debate inside his head to decide. If he hadn't stopped loving him in three years... he wasn't going to stop loving him- especially when he was alive and right next to him. Sebastian switched the hand holding Jim's wrist and took the back of his neck. He met their lips together gently- almost afraid that Jim would shatter in front of him and this all be some sick dream he'd come up it. 

                Swallowing thickly, James did his best to keep staring back at the other, judging his reaction. He could feel his own pulse speeding up, throat dry, and he would have bet that his pupils had dilated. Yeah, he missed him. A lot. The way his eyes flickered, James was almost sure that he was going to pull back, blame it one 'the past' and they'd moved on. Maybe, unless James decided to be obstinate and kiss him, even if the other wasn't as keen on the idea. Then something far better happened and Sebastian kissed him. A smile curled at his lips, Fingers gripping the front of Sebastian's shirt and leaning into the other's embrace.

  
                _“Oh my fucking God.”_ He nearly screamed out loud but thankfully kept in his head. When had Jim’s lips tasted so good? When had he become so… when had he just… _Fuck it. I’m in love with my employer._ Sebastian wrapped an arm around him and pulled the smaller man over as he leaned back. His head hit against the window with a thud but he didn’t hear it. Jim was stretched out almost on top of him and he kept their lips together. When they finally surfaced for air, Sebastian chest was rising and falling a little faster than usual. He opened his mouth to say something but the words didn’t come, so he whispered something else instead. No cars passed by them and it was slowly approaching midday. “Welcome home.” Sebastian whispered. True, they didn’t have a home. Not a real one with food in the fridge, a warm place to sleep and a lawn… but home in Sebastian sense, was here. Holding him in his arms.

                If there was one word that could aptly describe the moment, it was 'finally.' He'd barely been home a week, maybe only a few days (they were starting to blur together about now), but he finally got what he'd come back for. He could say anything that he wanted to, make every claim that was out there, but he came back for Sebastian and he left because of him, too. He left to take care of those damn worms that tried to sell the business out and to keep Sherlock off of his tail. Now, though, it was starting to head back to normal, again. This was normal. Kissing and feeling and clinging. James leant forward, not content to let a separation come between them. When the lack of oxygen finally peeled him away, he was star struck and breathless. Fingers uncurled slightly from the fabric of the other's shirt, James smiling broadly as he let his forehead rest against the other's shoulder. Slowly laughter eased out at the other's words, loving the way it just sounded coming from him. "Thank you."

                “Anytime.” Sebastian let his hand go up and down the other’s back, massaging it gently as he laid against his chest. He lifted his leg and rested it in the other seat with a small grunt, slowly closing his eyes. A car passed but it had a bunch of screaming drunk teenagers but it didn’t stir the two inside the car. He kissed the top of the other’s head. It felt good just to hold him again. To feel that he was real inside his arms. To smell his scent again. Soap and sandalwood. The other kept his eyes closed, not willing to break the moment.

                A near-purr almost surfaced from the other, the calloused fingers against his back a welcomed privilege. For awhile, he let himself be content with the other. Head on his shoulder, he was the most relaxed he'd been since he could think back. The gentle lips on the top of his head made him smile, but the sound of the car got him back onto rational thought. His gaze flipped upwards onto the other, almost regretting stirring it. "Come on, tiger," he sat up a little, pressing a chaste kiss to the other's lips, fingers brushing against his jawline gently. "We need to get off the road, alright? You can hold me all you'd like when we're behind closed doors.”

  
                He reluctantly let him go and sighed at the kiss on his cheek. “Don’t offer that, I might not let go.” Sebastian leaned up, unraveling his arms from him and set him back in his seat stealing another kiss. After a few seconds he returned to his seat, starting the car that had cooled off by then. It roared to life and immediately steered to get back on the road. It wasn’t a long ride to the shipyard but he rested his hand on the console, leaning back to drive with one hand. His heart still beat a little faster than it did usually. Almost like it had been restarted again. The smile he’d obtained with the kisses hadn’t slid off his face. It was getting longer as they drove.

                Laughing, he settled back into his own seat, belting up, again, surprised nonetheless by the press of lips against his. James couldn't help the feeling of happiness that welled up. Yeah, this was a good feeling. A great feeling, really. Once the vehicle had started along, he let his own thoughts wonder freely, fingers playing against the other's hand on the console between him. The touches were gentle, but rapid, James drumming against his hand as if working out the piece for a symphony, much like he did when addled. He was happy, though, as evidenced by the quiet, happy smile on his face, chuckling at the look on his companion's face.

                The ride was silent in the ride. No thoughts of pain were even allowed in the car for the next few hours. It was nice. Eventually Sebastian threaded their fingers together, still leaving room for Jim to tap at his will knowing he did that when he was at ease. The smaller always liked to move in some form or fashion. The sun was just about to set and they were now on a road near the water. Another hour and they would be at the shipyard. He turned the wheel a little, watching in his rearview mirror. No one had come along the road for some time besides them and though that was nice, it was a little too calm for his tastes. He glanced over, Jim was still grinning. “I’m glad we’re going to Italy... they have great coffee there.”

                His train of thought stood about the same as Sebastian's, a little unnerved by the lack of opposition. He hardly minded it, but it was still a problem. They'd have to ditch this car before heading over to England, as it was a little too odd, the SUV far bulkier and more noticeable than the vehicles than usually trailed up and down the English roads. They could stop into a parking lot and swap cars with a less flashy one. That didn't sound like a bad idea, really. "The coffee?" James stirred with a bit of a laugh, nodding his head in agreement. "The food in general is amazing. The scenery is just as beautiful, too."

                “It’s always been beautiful. Though it’s been a while since I’ve seen it. I’ll take your word for it.” He shrugged and still glanced from time to time toward the rearview mirror. “Shipyards about half an hour away and nothing between here and there except a town. I say we ditch the car and travel on foot. It might be easier that way…” Sebastian trialed off and accelerated a bit. Thankfully his driving skills weren’t as horrid as they used to be. His hand still rested in Jim’s as they sped up down the winding road and there was a flash of lightning far off and about forty seconds later thunder boomed. “Storms coming. Might as well find another hotel for the night.”

                "I was there about a year and a half ago tracking down Signore Bellmont. He had a villa in Venice which made trying to find him all the more fun," he explained, a light smile on his lips as he leant back into the warmth of the seat. The idea of ditching wasn't bad. Hell, if they wanted to be creative, they could strap the accelerator down and let her fly, see what it crashed into. There was still a childish part of James that had always wanted to try that. However, the threat of the storm made James widen his eyes a bit. Stopping soon. Too many things could happen. "Yeah. Good idea," he mumbled, nodding his head. "Empty the car before we go, though."

                "Signore Bellmont? The fat guy who used to put his cigars out my coffee? Damn, I would have liked to removed his head from his shoulders." The seemed to roll in faster and Sebastian leaned forward to look up at the sky. "It'll be on top of us before we reach the next town." After a particularly sharp turn, Sebastian saw the town lights up ahead as rain drops started to slide down the windows. "I'll to it and ditch the car immediately. SUV's aren't stealthy." He slowed the car, watching the sun disappear behind storm clouds. It was still eerily quiet- no sun, no cars, no one on the street. The sniper watched out the windows. "I've got a bad feeling..."

                James nodded his head in the positive, saying that it indeed was that smug bastard. He'd been a good arms dealer, always having some kind of connection with illegal weapons of all sorts. Unfortunately, the man got too big for his trousers, trying to trade of James' secrets for a couple hundred extra euros. It hadn't ended well for him. "Agreed." His eyes settled on the lights, not liking how it looked in the slightest. "On both counts."   
  
                As the storm seemed to grow worse, Sebastian pulled the car over to the side of the road. Sheets of rain fell onto the pavement, creating heavy steam in the air. It took a few moments before the sniper reached for a gun in the backseat of the car and took a weapon. Lightning flashed. "We might as well stay here..." He mumbled looking outside as a flash of lightning came so brightly that he had hold a hand over his eyes. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he looked back out the window, blinking spot of light out of his eyes as a large man stood there, his face slightly hidden by shadow.  
He jerked away from the window, immediately going to put himself in front of Jim. "Shit!" Slipped from his lips and he was about to bring up the gun when the man knocked. A lightning flash came and revealed that it was only a fisherman. He breathed out a sigh of relief when the man knocked on the door's window. "Storms a brewin! There be a Inn up the way for ye travelers!" The man, complete with a large white walrus beard, pulled his yellow raincoat around him tighter and ran off toward another shop that lined the road they were on in the middle of the town. Sebastian looked back at Jim and sighed.

                The cold air of Ireland mingling with the humidity of pouring rain causing the windows to fog up. James took his sleeve, swiping it against the window, trying to peer out. James looked to Sebastian as the car pulled to a start. This all just felt off and James was sure that the other could feel it too, his reaching for the fun confirming that. "Nothing else better to..." He trailed off, eyeing the other's movement in front of him. Peering over, he noticed the figure in the rain. His own apprehension built, eyes wide and, if anything, quite confused. The flash of lightning made him jump, but taking notice of the gaudy coat and face, he relaxed again. Fisherman. Should have known. He looked to the other, shrugging his shoulders. "Either can wait it out in a car that might have a GPS tracker or in an inn that might have murderers in it."

                "Though you look great in this lighting. I'd rather have a bed." The other grunted before putting the gun down onto his lap, barrel pointed out toward the door. "Murderers can wait." Leaving the gun on the seat, he crawled in the back, getting his bag together before looking at the once consulting criminal. "There isn't any other parking but here so we'll have to make a mad dash for the Inn." Lightning flashed again and again, acting like the mighty Norse god Thor was having a field day from the sounds. Eventually the car started to shake a little. Sebastian moved now he would sit on the guns in the back seat, but packed them in any bag he could find. "Jesus!" A limb broke off from a nearby tree.

                 James laughed quietly, craning his head to the side until he heard an audible pop. He wouldn't' object in any way, the seat warm but far from accommodating. The bag at his feet was perfectly fine and the gun he'd lifted from Clara was still relatively full. They'd have to dump the lot before getting on a boat or anything else, but it was security to have it, now. He looked back at him, watching him load up all that he could. A smile twitched slightly, snorting. "That'll go over well, looking like two damn drowned idiots." Still, it was better than anything they had at the moment. His eyes flipped to the scene outside, almost jumping out of his skin at the flash of light.

                He saw the corner out of the corner of his eye that Jim had jolted. From what it looked like to him, he reached forward slowly and touched the other gently on the arm. No words came, more because Sebastian knew the other didn't like sentiment so he went with a silent gesture. It had always been mainly like that. The first morning he had woken up with Jim wrapped around him still asleep, he had made breakfast. Jim had walked in, sat down at the table where Sebastian had instantly handed him a cup of coffee and a plate of food. They ate in silence, stupid grins on their faces. He smiled at the memory and squeezed gently before going to the door and opening it. It almost closed on him from the wind and he opened it up, getting blasted with a wave of water, "SHIT." He shouted getting out and taking the bags with him. "Come on!"

                 The brush of calloused fingers against skin grounded James, again. He didn't look at Sebastian, gaze fixated ahead of him, trying to calm himself down. He'd never been a fan of thunder or lightning when he wasn't in the safety of his own room, but that was almost ridiculous. There weren't enough words, however, to describe how thankful he was for the brush. It wasn't much, just barely enough to remind the criminal that, no, he wasn't alone anymore. Three years of storms had been fought by himself, but not anymore. He almost smiled, watching the other bail out of the car. Laughter stemmed out at the screaming and shouting. Catching a deep breath through his nose, James jumped out and onto the pavement. The water was freezing, the wind not helping in the slightest. "Shit!" he echoed, still laughing as he ran over towards the other. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

                Jim slid at the last moment and went into the taller, who dutifully caught him around the waist before nearly falling over himself. “Whoever did- Remind me to kick his ass!” The other had to shout over the wind and started to drag the other toward the Inn. He’d kill that fisherman if he got the chance. “Get to the Inn he says! Storm is fucking _brewing_ he says!” Sebastian continued, his guitar case slung over his back and thankfully waterproof. The other bags nor their clothing wasn’t so lucky. “ _Brewing_ means it’s about to hit! Not that it’s about to piss all over- asdfghjkl.” He caught a mouth full of water and swore immediately after just as they reached the door. With windows shaking on the Inn, Sebastian yanked open the door that unceremoniously hit him back in the forehead. He let out a growl truly worthy of a tiger before tossing his bags inside and almost doing the same to Jim before shutting the door behind him. Immediately afterward he sneezed into the inside of his shirt.

                The criminal laughed, clinging onto the other before catching his feet. New trainers were added to the ever-growing list of things that he needed in his mind. As Sebastian started to herd him along, James found himself just as much dragging Sebastian as he himself was dragged. It was wet and cold and every breath almost hurt, whether from laughing or panic. "We're Irish! This isn't anything!" he shouted back at him. In truth, it wasn't, but having spent his whole life in London, he was used to that weather more than this weather. When the pair of them finally breeched the inside of the place, James was panting heavily, almost collapsing onto the wooden floor. It was nice, he supposed, almost more of a shack than any hotel or motel he'd seen. The woman at the counter stared at them with wide-eyes, gasping softly to herself, drawling out in her thick Northern accent worries, flooding from her lips. "Alright, alright," he drawled back, letting his own damned accent fade out, if only to ease the other--Irish liked themselves better than any Brits. "Just water-logged."

                Sebastian glanced at Jim before going to the lady at the desk. “Room, no need for two beds.” She nodded and reached behind her for the keys to her room. His internal alarms immediately sparked. Blond hair was too bright. A tramp stamp was of a Russian symbol. She was way too muscular to be an Inn Keeper. While Jim was still catching his breath, he waited for her to turn. The platinum blond turned, gun instead of key. In a quick easy motion, he slapped the gun out of her hand. _“I would think that they would hire professionals to kill us.”_ He snarled softly. “Who else knows we’re here?” She shook her head repeatedly, scared shitless of what would happen to her. “N-N-No one.” He tightened the grip her hand over the counter on her neck. “Sure?” Her accent got steadily worse, “They paid us to stand by at all the places to stay! They paid us!” Sebastian leaned in, “Are they checking in? How do you contact them? Tell me everything!” The blond clawed at the fingers still tightening around her neck. “We… called… when we found you… they won’t know… they won’t… know…..” Her eyes bulged out and he dropped her on the counter, picking up the gun and putting it to the back of her head. “I’m going to give you one chance and one chance only. If you report us. You die. If you breathe a word about us. You die. If you even think about double-crossing us. _I. Will. Kill. You._ Do you understand me? You work for _Sebastian Moran_ now. If they come after you… you will say that Sebastian Moran is looking for James Moriarty with a partner. Whoever comes after us will die and the rumor is that he is going to Moscow. You know where that is?” She started to sob, a real fear in her eyes. Her head nodded repeatedly as she choked. “I want you to stay here… Do not speak. Be very welcoming to any other customers… I’ll take that room now, _sweetheart._ ” She sobbed and curled up on the ground and pointed to the one of the keys. The entire hotel was empty. Sebastian’s voice almost dripped with venom as he took the key. He knew the look of fear and he couldn’t say he didn’t love it when it was on the face of other people. Only Jim knew… He could be a good, docile tiger… Or he could rip a man limb from limb.

                There still remained a part of James that wished that he was surprised by the gun. That he was completely at a loss for words at the sudden treachery of the woman. However, after being shot at several times and nearly blown up, all in the same day, it didn't happen. James barely batted an eye as he watched the gun fly across the floor, heard the snarls shouted from his dear tiger, and could smell the fear of a woman who thought that she'd had an easy prey. Leaning back against the wall, James listened to the conversation with a near smirk on his lips. It'd been ages since he'd seen Sebastian this vile and, damn, if that didn't bring back some delightful memories. The diner had been a snippet, but this was a whole show for him. The rage, the fury, the utter disbelief, they were all welcomed things after such a far too long separation James only made to speak once, though understood why he shouldn't. He let Sebastian handle it, snatching the keys from the other before leading out of the room. Giving a distant sort of 'thank you', the criminal didn't look back at the woman as he weaved through the halls in search of their designated room.

                Sebastian finished with the woman who was nothing more than a sobbing mass of emotion on the ground now. He glanced at the room he took the key from and took a few more keys on different floors, then the master from her belt. “See ya around honey.” The woman just stared up at him, on the borderline of a panic-attack. The stairs didn’t take long as he memorized the one key that Jim had taken. He dumped some of the one’s he’d stolen around the place. One in a flower pot, another in the trashcan, one under a suitcase that an idiot had left- he’d checked it for bombs or cash- just a plan old suitcase, and a few more here and there. Eventually he knocked on the door to Jim’s room. “It’s me.” He said, “Unless you want me in another room.”

                The criminal didn't stop until he reached the room. Unlocking and throwing the door open, James trudged over to his bed. His baggage slumped down to the floor with a squish as James kicked off his shoes. In a matter of moments, his head hit the pillow and he curled in on himself. The relief of not standing or running sunk in, stress easing from his form as he relaxed on the bed. James didn't look up until he heard Sebastian's voice at the door. Lifting his head, black eyes peered at him and he nodded before curling up back on the bed, again. “Come in here." In all honesty, he preferred that to sleeping alone. It was nice waking up with someone else there, remembering that things were different, even if different didn't seem all that good at the moment. 

                Sebastian stayed over by the door for a bit before coming in and shutting it behind him. He was stepping softly with the carpet, almost unable to be heard at all. The storm shook the windows outside and but didn’t sit down on the opposite side of the bed. “Sorry… I lost my head.” He muttered to the air, his clothing dripped slowly on the floor. “If you want me to leave… I can.” The taller put the bag in the corner and looked back at Jim’s back.

                 "Obviously." His tone wasn't malicious, almost fond, in actuality. He twisted onto his side to face him, body still curled in on itself if only for comfort. "But, after the number of years that I've been with you, it'd be a lie to say that it wasn't expected." Sebastian was one of a staggering few that James trusted and, if Sebastian lashed out and screamed as some poor girl, calling her a spy- even if she was-, then James wasn't dumb enough to argue. James seriously doubted that the other had lost his ability in these three years. It was comforting, really, not to have to worry about those kinds of things. His mind could focus on the things it needed to and Sebastian's could focus on the rest. "If I wanted you to leave, I would have told you to," he stated flatly, black eyes following his movements.

                He held his gaze, keeping still like a tiger who had been caught by a human. “She was a spy sent by the Russian mafia. She either had be scared out of her wits so bad that she wouldn’t tell… or be killed. I lost my cool.” Sebastian pulled off his shirt, his skin still red and bones showing through. He sat on the edge of the bed, “I’ll leave when you tell me to then.” His voice was soft and he focused on the wall, rubbing his eyes with one hand. Fatigue, hunger and thirst was now setting in.

                "Did I complain?" James got to his feet, shuffling over to the loo. Door half-shut, James eased out of his wet clothing, the thought finally dawning on him. Trousers and shirt both were thrown up over the railing to dry for the evening. Tomorrow morning, before they left, he'd go out and invest in new clothing. Shutting the light off, he came back out in nothing more than pants, though the majority of his torso was still covered in bandaging. "I trust your judgment," he said simply, settling back into his previous spot on the bed. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't, Sebastian." He listened to the other's words, a slight smile on his lips as he tried to find a less damp spot on the bed, other than the one he'd been laying in, "Might be awhile then, yeah? Might as well get comfortable."

                His eyes immediately looked up at the bandages- how had he not noticed them before? Sebastian raised his eyebrows at him but didn’t answer him in the slightest besides a small grunt. Lying down, he looked at Jim with sad eyes. Eventually he turned over, “Sleep in the dry spot. I don’t mind the wet… I’m German.” He tried to cast him a small smile, trying to have at least a little humor in their lives still. “I am comfortable. With you.”

                James found himself laughing at the other's comments, curling around the spot to the best of his abilities. The thunder rolled and lightning flashed outside, James jumping in spite of himself, the rain threatening to burst through the window. It'd been ages since he'd been this terrified of a storm and he found himself laughing at such a stupid thing. "I'm Irish, hell, I should be used to this by now," he mumbled. The last words brought a smile to his lips, James nodding his head. "Good. Good. We're kind of stuck together, so, I suppose it's for the best."

                Sebastian was still mostly sitting up and he saw the twitching of the other's small body. His statue impersonation was perfect. With a sigh he turned over, pulling the other to him gently. "Here." His tone was soft but open, keeping the amount of talking to a minimum. It didn't seem like the storm would let up anytime soon. A particularly large bolt shook the building and he put a hand to the spot on the back of Jim's neck. There was a pressure point he used to know that he had headaches in a lot. Sebastian rubbed his neck, finding the place instantly. 

                Not a movement was made as James allowed himself to be tugged along against the other. At this point, he couldn't bring himself to care. He was exhausted, depleted, and any form of consolation would have been worth the breech in personal space. Another jump was awarded as the lightning flashed, but the crash of merciless lightning was what brought the most rise out of the criminal. Tendrils of memories flickered across his eyelids, James tensing in response. Balling up tighter against the other, he was suddenly surprised to feel calloused skin against his neck. Involuntarily, a noise ghosted past his lips at the familiar feeling, tension leaving his body in waves. Eyes shut, his whole frame relaxed helplessly. 

                The night continued like that. He continued to rub the back of the other’s neck. Honestly he was tired enough not to care that his eyes were slowly starting to slam shut. It hadn’t been like this in a while. Just feeling him there was something. The other hand kept in the small of Jim’s back, keeping him close to him. “I’m here.” Sebastian whispered into his ear, head resting on his lightly. “I won’t leave you.” Maybe it was too much. Maybe he was just setting himself for more heartbreak later… but he still leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Just go to sleep.”

                Between the gentle tone and the brushes of fingers and lips as light as a summer breeze, James was surprised that he managed to stay conscious for that long. The criminal allowed himself to succumb into the warmth of the moment, curling closer into the other as his breathing started to slow to deep, even inhales and exhales. Long fingers curled against the other's arm instinctively, almost possessively, his grip loose, but still tangible, though. It was something to hold onto and, for some unconscious part of his mind, keep him grounded in his wandering dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

                The sniper kept up his actions before he fell asleep as well. It didn’t take long for the night to take hold of Sebastian’s mind. He moaned softly as the images started to come. Shadows started to appear in his dream. Blood ran from a beautiful angel statue before it broke apart. His eyes shut tighter as Clara’s face appeared out of a deck of cards and a vodka bottle smashed. She smiled, ‘Here tiger…’ Sebastian let out another moan as he practically felt the electrodes on his skin again. A strike of lightning came across and he jolted away, breathing hard. Eyes wide and nostrils flared.

                James didn't stay asleep for long. Whether or not it was the raging storm outside or the fact that the man beside him had stirred, even James wasn't quite sure. Heart-racing, he felt himself spring awake as the other beside him stirred. A wane expression on his lips, he sat up, too, running a hand through his hair. "Alright there?" he asked, peering up at him curiously.

                “Yeah.” He answered immediately turning over, pushing the pillow back into a better position. At least the spot underneath him had dried already. “Go back to sleep.” The bed groaned as he rolled over and watched the rain hitting the window. Sebastian rubbed his eyes, trying to get the images out of his head. “All we can do is sleep until the storm is over.” His stomach suddenly voiced it’s opinion and he rubbed his chest slightly. Suddenly the wall that Sebastian had temporally taken down to comfort the other was brought back up again.

                A sigh eased past his lips as James watched the other. A bit hesitant, James moved a hand towards him before thinking better of it. Not in this mood, certainly not. Laying back down, he curled in on himself, bicep used as a make-shift pillow for the moment as he endeavored to find comfort in the new position. Unlike last time, it took far longer to settle down, though, his sheer exhaustion won out and James found himself drifting off, the shudders and shakes brought on by the raucous thunder becoming nothing more than his hyperactive body's lullaby.

                Sebastian thankfully closed his eyes and reopened them to see daylight outside. He turned over to see Jim was still asleep next to him and he let out a relaxed breath. Sitting up straight, he stared at the mirror across from him. Few moments went by of him simply staring. He shook his head and stood from the bed, stretching and going to find his shirt. When Jim still hadn’t woke; he moved toward the pen and pad on the desk. Sunlight streamed in enough now he could write a note. _“Gone to get food and clothing. Be back soon. –S_ ” With a once over of the room he shut the door behind him and locked it with the spare key he had.

                It was another hour still before James awoke, the sun doing a ghastly number on his light-sensitive pupils. A near-hiss surfaced from his throat as he curled back down into the bed. Slowly, the man became aware of his surroundings and the... James sat up. Empty room. He felt his stomach drop in a matter of moments, throat dry. Had it been another stupid-late night fantasy? James got to his feet, searching about the room and, slowly, evidence surface, at last followed by a simple note. Stupid bastard. James had intended to go out himself, in need of things he'd rather Sebastian not purchase. Still... Flopping back onto the bed, James began to surface through the telly, trying to find something to occupy his bored mind.

                Twenty or so minutes later, Sebastian walked back in the door with sunglasses on just like his old pair. He looked a lot better in new clothing and had a pack of cigarettes sticking out of his back pocket. The taller paused seeing the others look on his face. “Morning…” Sebastian muttered walking toward the other and setting the bag of clothing and food on the bed. “I…Got what you like. Or what you used to like.” He scratched the back of his head. “Two tickets on the next ship too. It’ll take us straight to Italy and with high security. They won’t catch us and we’ll get a little vacation. Storm trashed pretty much everyone and everything out there. A shark got blown in somehow and they were trying to shoot it the last time I saw it.”

                Looking up from the screen, he nodded in greeting, sitting back on his legs before scrounging through the bags. A muttered 'thank you' eased out as he pawed through, honestly willing to take anything that he could get at the moment. Setting the clothing aside, he pulled a can of crisps out, flopping back down as he peeled off the plastic lid. "When does the ship leave?" he asked, popping it into his mouth simply, manners rather graced over in the situation. 

                “Twilight…” He paused, “I should warn you… it’s a couple’s cruise…” Scratching the back of his head he shifted, “I thought it would be better to stay in one room to reduce the chance of anyone picking up on us not being…. Civilians.” Sebastian pulled out a stack of crackers and nibbled on them like a mouse. He glanced at the television before sitting in one of the hotel room’s chairs. There was a bottle of vodka in the bag but… he really didn’t want to touch that right now. A water bottle would do fine.

                That gave him more than enough time, he figured. Nodding, he continued on, nibbling at the bits of food that he felt willing enough to stomach down. Sebastian's comment about the last bit caught him up, James peering over at the other. Eyebrow raised, he thought it over before nodding and shrugging. "True. It's one of the less-likely places that they would look," he admitted, biting into another crisp. "What did you use to pay for all of this?"

  
                "I've had some extra cash stored away in the backpack in case we needed it. Not to mention a bunch of the stores were already being ransacked to I borrowed a bit. Only spent a couple on the food. We've got about... three thousand left." He drank out of the water bottle and yawned. Sebastian was cleaner than he was last night too. Somewhere he found time to take a shower. "They won't look at all there. The kid down stairs didn't rat on us.”  
  
                Polishing off half of the can, James rose to his feet before walking over to the sniper, clothes tucked over his arm. "I'm going to need about a hundred or so when I come back out. Need to pick up a few things." Raking a hand through his hair, he started back towards the loo, freehand starting off the bandaging. "Go ahead and get some sleep, alright? You look exhausted," he hollered back over his shoulders before shutting the door.

                Sebastian stood and searched in the bag for a moment before going over to the bathroom door, opening it to a crack to put fresh bandages on the counter and then closing it again. He leaned against the door frame facing toward the room for a moment then said, "I'll leave it there for you when you get out." There wasn't any way he could sleep now. He was wired again. The crackers were making his stomach do flips but at least he could hold that down for a while. It was his first food in... how many days? He lost track. "Do you need any help later?" He called finding his rifle and checking if it was ready for duty. Just in case. 

                Taking the bandages, he set them off to the side in a place that they wouldn't get smacked around. It took careful patience on the part of the criminal to unwrap the gauze, the whole act setting his body on fire. He hated doing this more than he could possibly say. Once they got to Italy, James would definitely be visiting a doctor. It seemed, after all of these years, his emergency-room-esque skills weren't as good as they once were. "I might," he called back, dropping the used bandages into the rubbish bin before turning on the water. "I just need a steady hand."

                "You alright." He didn't really ask it from the other side of the door as he started to shave in the outer sink hearing the hisses of pain in the other room. Shaving off his beard he glanced at the door and headed back into the main room. "I'll be there when you need me."  
  
                "Fine." James looked it over, sighing as he stepped into the shower cubicle, shutting the distorted glass door behind him. The majority of the wounds looked better and were healing nicely, but there was still several that looked as raw and as angry as they day that he'd received them. Most of those were in places out of reach, spots he could't care for quite so easily. James tried to push that to the back of his mind as he stepped under the water, relishing in the warmth that it brought him. Muscles relaxed and, for a good five minutes, he just let the water fall and tried to adjust to something so seemingly normal. 

                 
                Sebastian paused at the single word and shook his head at the sound of it. “No you aren’t.” He muttered softly and moved to the backpack with the money he had taken in it. Almost three thousand was hidden in the stitching and only took a second to remove a wad of twenties from the closest line of stitch. The sniper set it on the table, made the bed, drank a little, ate a cracker… anything to keep him busy while the other was in the shower. Feeling a bit better than he usually did made him want to stay awake as long as possible. Twilight wouldn’t come soon enough and he wanted to be on that ship. None stop trips to Italy were hard to come by no days and he’d bought the last tickets. The lady he’d got them from looked sketchy but he’d paid an arm and leg for them. Most of the people after them were too stupid to think of posing as a woman who’d stolen some tickets. Normally there were signs as well even they did- forgotten to take off a watch, too clean of hair, usual telltale signs. The water continued to run as he plopped down in the closet chair and started to enjoy a cigarette. Maybe smoking would become more of a habit… He snorted at the sign on the table that told him not to and flicked it down with one hand.  
  
                Before long, James finally put his mind to actually washing. He was surprised how much dirt his body could have collected in the past twenty-four hours. Then again, between the diner and getting shot at from their hotel window, and nearly being drowned on their way here, James decided maybe it was too childish to be surprised. Hair washed through twice, James finally shut off the water when it started to dawn on too long to be in the shower. Pushing the glass door open, James all but hissed at the assault of cold air. He took a step out and onto the mat before the shower, drying himself off quickly and as gently as he could manage. With the towel curled around his waist, James set to trying to patch himself up, again. It didn't take long to tend to his torso and sides, those spots easy to reach, but his back was what presented a problem. As much as he didn't want someone else handling them, it was either that or risk further infection. Shuffling over to the door, he popped it open a bit and stuck his head out. "Hey, come here, for a second. I need you to help me with this."  
  
                Sebastian looked up from the spot he was staring at in the middle of the carpet. It took him a moment to actually figure out that Jim was calling him to help. He stood and went to the door, slowly pushing it open to enter in. It would be a lie if he said that the burns and cuts on the others skin were a surprise. If one were to look under his shirt, he had a fair few as well. With silence filling the air between them, he washed his hands and picked up the spare bandages. Practiced fingers took a few pieces of gauze and dipped them in a cap full of alcohol- gently ghosting it over the worst ones on his back first. It was a slow process and the taller took care of the cuts like a doctor would. Eventually the wounds were cleaned and he applied the bandages carefully. There was a scar on the back of Jim’s neck that Sebastian fingers felt for a second. _Torture._ Anger flooded his system for a moment before he shook his head slightly. “Some of the cuts are infected. I’ll change your bandages again on the ship.”

                Staying crooked between the door and the wall, James only inched back when Sebastian stepped in. Pressing against the sink, he made an off-handed gesture towards the gauze and supplies on the side. Long fingers curled around the body of the sink, looking forward to this as much as anyone did. The state they were in, James was almost positive that it'd hurt worse than normal. At least they were the minor gashes and sores. The worse was still the one across his stomach and that had taken such a long time to heal. James remembered being curled up in the hostel he'd found, wondering to himself if he was going to have to make a hospital trip. The fact that James was able to remain eerily quiet throughout was a miracle, even in his own eyes. The part the unsettled him, though, was Sebastian's expression and the far-too gentle fingers on his neck. Raising a hand, he let his own cover Sebastian's, looking back at him through the mirror before him. "Thank you. I'd do it myself," his voice trailed off and he shrugged. "I can wrap it all up, no problem. You don't have to."

                The fingers that went across his hand when he touched Jim’s scar were almost comforting. Almost. His eyes briefly met the dark ones in the mirror looking at him before going back to his work with the other wounds. “You’ve done it for me. I’ll do it for you.” Sebastian muttered cleaning the last of the ones on his back and other places the shorter couldn’t reach. Gently he turned Jim and sighed at the one on his stomach. The gauze he was using was thrown away and a new was brought out with fresh ointment on it.  He went over the stomach wound, spying another cut on his shoulder he’d take care of before it got worse too. Eventually he finished, taking the bandages in hand and gesturing for the other to lift his arms a little. It wrapped around easily, both of them were skinny. “Got anymore?” Sebastian asked referring to the wounds.

                James didn't argue with his claim. It was true. Granted, most of the scars he'd accumulated in their years together were because of the criminal, these on his back, stomach, and chest had been earned by his own cockiness and stupidity. Going for streaks without a problem, knocking off targets as if he were a kid and doing this for a living, again, had always come back to bite him. Turning to face the other, he opened his mouth to protest the one on his stomach, but gave up before the words even left his lips. It'd healed, mostly, nothing more than a scab lining from his left bottom rib to his right hip. Sebastian was doing something he felt useful and James wasn't going to be cruel to try and take it away from him. He started laughing, however, when Sebastian worked on the bandaging. A hand on the top of his head to get the arm out of the way, he used his other to tighten it up and assist where he could. "There's some in the box in my bag," he stated firmly, referring to the gauze and bandaging. "I'll throw what's left in there. We should be fine for now."

                Sebastian paused and spotted another scar on his collar bone. He looked at it, afraid to do much else for a moment. The bandages covered the other’s lower torso and a little of the middle. The taller looked at it before leaned down and kissed the scar there for a moment- eyes closed tightly and long eye lashes perfectly still, then pulling back. “Sorry.” Though he didn’t say what for… it was loud and clear. He said softly before pulling away completely and walked back out the bathroom door. “I’ve got the money on the table for you. Did you still want me to go with you?”

                Brain in a completely different part of motion, James was mainly talking to himself. The things that they'd need for the trip, how many days was it? Was it even worth getting another bag? He could probably take the hotel hair dryer to it and pray for a miracle. Ah, what about the Westwood he's hidden in there? James could only hope that the inside was as waterproof as it claimed to be when he bought it. Toiletries wouldn't be a problem getting-- The criminal trailed off mid-sentence, standing rigid as he felt smooth lips against regrown, pearly flesh. Swallowing heavily, James looked down, more than a little surprised. It took far longer than it should have even for the separation to register, Sebastian already out of the room. Towel still wrapped around his waist, he trailed after him, quite confused. It was a push-and-pull between them. Sometimes James would push and Sebastian would pull, then push right after. Their kiss (snog) in the car had certainly been pulling, but last night in the room had been pushing. If Sebastian was looking for a way to mess with the man's mind, he'd found a brilliant method. "I think I can manage on my own," he mumbled, shuffling towards the rickety bedside table that he'd left his pistol on. Picking it up, he checked the chamber before setting it back. James raised a hand to his own, dark hair, ruffling it a bit. "Just going to pick up a few things. Do you want something?"

 

                “Nah, I think I’ll scout the shipyard and the liner. More than likely they’ll have a surprise waiting for us. It’ll be better to have something for a back-up plan.” Sebastian leaned over to check a bag he’d gotten from the car full of weapons from last night. It would make more sense to hide a gun here and there on the ship just in case they ran into trouble. His light eyes went up to look at the other man. Anyone else would have seen normality from the shorter but… Sebastian wasn’t a random person. Jim looked… flustered? He mentally went through everything he had done for a few moments and decided that the kiss had been overstepping some sort of line between them. None of it was very clear to begin with. Jim hadn’t objected to being cudd-held- last night or the kiss in the car… The sniper sighed through his nose, _“I guess things won’t be the same again…I don’t know whether I should be sad or happy about that…In the end it won’t matter much. I’ll always be working for him.”_ He picked up the gun bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Meet me back here? Or do you just want to get on the ship early, it’s in port refueling and doing maintenance.” He set his gaze on the smaller, letting it wonder for a moment before keeping it locked in Jim’s face.

  
                The man snorted, picking up the pile of newer clothes that Sebastian had been kind enough to invest in before walking back towards the loo. Better safer than dead, but still.  "Heaven forbid that we actually have a safe departure from anyplace," he called, tone exasperated but in far better spirits than the day previous. Pausing in the doorway once he set the clothes down on the counter, he let his gaze rest on the sniper. Looking to him, he watched momentarily as he shuffled through the bag, watched as he made executive decisions that, as always, James trusted him to make. Countless years dictated that, even if the bastard was being more infuriating than usual, he could still trust him. It was certainly an odd relationship. Granted, even given their broken state, it was better broken together than apart. It wasn't sentimental, it was fact. James slipped into the loo, shutting the door a bit to allow himself more space to move in the compact room. He half-tossed, half-threw the towel at the railing before starting to dress himself. "Back here," he called out. "I've got something to do here, first. Less distasteful than waiting on a nearly-empty ship and joining the crowd to board will be far safer." Surprisingly enough, it seemed to all fit, for which James was rather thankful. The denims weren't bad, far more comfortable than the ones he'd been living in and the shirt definitely fit better than his older one. No, it wasn't Westwood, something he inwardly lamented, but at this point, who was he to complain? Stepping back out, James stopped over by the table, sorting through quid there. Counting out enough to get him by, he tucked it down into his front pocket before picking up the pistol. "Try not to get yourself hurt before I get back," he mumbled, picking up his coat from the floor before easing it onto his shoulders.  
  
                “Me? Never.” Sebastian eyed his backside and made a sound of appreciation before walking out the door and closing it behind him. There was a reason he picked those jeans besides they were comfortable. Sure, he’d stick to being a bed-warmer as long as James wanted him. He was good at being a sniper. But he could have his peeks on his spare time when he wasn’t fulfilling his two main jobs. After a few moments outside the door the man made his way outside. The blond informant wasn’t at the front desk but he could still hear her in the back doing something. Sunshine nearly blinded him as he walked out into the storm wrecked town. It was slow almost. People moved around cleaning up their shops and such around the neighborhood and the main road through the town. The SUV was almost completely covered in sea weeds. Sebastian swore softly before going toward the port.     It took a while for the sniper to get back to the shipyard- what didn’t take long was planting weapons on the ship. Since everyone was busy with the town, no one was bothering with security. Sebastian walked very much like a cat along the tops of cargo and wood planks going to each area until he got onto the right position for recon. It was easy- almost too easy. Whoever had been chasing them had taken a break clearly for now. The sun was setting, getting closer than he liked to twilight. One quick stop to the captain’s quarters got the sniper a new map to work with before returning to the hotel room. “Wardrobe change…” He muttered changing jackets and packing a carry-on bag. Eventually he sat down and waited for Jim to return. After he cleaned his rifle twice, he started to worry.

  
                Tucking the gun into the back of his denims where he could both easily reach it and hide it, James certainly heard the noise that Sebastian made, but didn't comment. Pull. He gave the room a final once over after Sebastian left. The place looked fine, well, as good as a cheap motel next to an Irish port could be. Stepping out, he locked the door to their room, heading out down the hall and out the lobby. Hand raised up, he tried to block the sun from his eyes, unsuccessfully biting back a hiss, much to one of the resident's amusement. For a country of pale folk, they certainly liked to reside in the sun. Head down, James didn't speak to anyone else as he wandered through the group. A few vendors tried to catch his attention--food, souvenirs, t-shirts, travel insurance--but his attention was far focused ahead of him. It was a ten minute walk that brought him up to the small convenience store. Slipping in, he gave a short nod to the woman at the counter before browsing through.

 

                Up and down every single isle, James spent the majority of his time standing before one small display, deciding between two colours. When he finally decided on one (red because he was Irish, so why not embrace it for the first time in his existence), he brought it up to the counter with that, a good bit of food that had absolutely no health benefits whatsoever, and a baseball cap in the most obnoxious green that he could find. The woman smiled and batted her eyes at him, James really far too zoned out to notice. He handed over the currency, took the bag, and left, keeping a weathered eye behind him. Not a voice called, not a footstep fell aside from his own and James began to relax a bit. He took a bit slower on the way back to the room, but arriving far later than he'd intended. Unlocking the room, he stepped in, throwing the bag onto the bed before retrieving a box and tearing it open. "Got a bit delayed on the way back and almost put a bullet through some poor bitch's head, how was your morning?" He drawled, throwing  a look back at the other.

  
                                His back was turned when Jim came back into the hotel room. Sighing, he turned, “Please don’t tell me you killed anyone…” Sebastian knew the other had more control than that but lately they both had been stressed. Outside someone bonked the horn of a car outside and he spared a moment to look out the blinds of the window. A woman was helping her two kids inside and went back to watching the smaller. “The bags are almost packed. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll have the last one packed.” The tickets were tossed onto the table with a role of cash for each of them. They had about two and a half thousand left between them now.  “Hey…” The taller spoke suddenly. “I think…” He trailed off before shaking his head. What was he doing? There wasn’t time to talk anymore, why the hell had he suddenly wanted to now? Hadn’t he just decided to stay out of the relationship side of things with the other? “Nevermind. I found it.” Sebastian quickly covered putting the last of the things they had gotten into the bag he was carrying. “Ready?”

 

                "No, no," James shook his head, looking back at the other with a thin smile, digestive biscuit caught between his teeth. "But I think she learnt that grabbing prospective customers who look like they're in a bad mood is certainly not a smart idea." Continuing the rifle through, James sorted everything out before tucking the majority of his things into his own baggage. Much to his own sheer relief, everything on the inside was still perfectly dry. His fingers pass briefly between his shoulders, chest, and head in a non-verbal thank you to his dead mother's deity. Old habits die hard. "No rush," he mumbled, chewing the biscuit thoughtfully as he let his train of thought wander. Glancing up at the other's begun words, he raised an eyebrow. "You think and then you found it? Not sure how that works." James sat down on the edge of the bed, a questioning look still on his face as he sealed up the baggage before dropping it to the floor. "Come now, tiger, tell Daddy what you were going to say. You know how I hate it when you keep secrets."   
  
                “I was distracted.” Sebastian said softly, trying to avoid the memory of the last time Jim had called himself ‘Daddy’ in his presence. He waved his switchblade in the air and shrugged, “I was gonna say that I thought I left my knife in the car. I found it.” The lie was perfectly acceptable. Somewhere deep down the sniper was worried that the lie had so easily fallen from his lips- especially in the direction of the other. “You have secrets. I have secrets. That’s something we’re gonna live with.” Wincing, he realized that he’d said the words out-loud and waited for the other to blowup at him.  He sighed immediately afterward scratching the back of his head, “Look…” Thankfully he hadn’t turned around to see the look that he imagined on the other’s face. “Things…things are different now. I don’t know what you have been through and you don’t know what I’ve been through. Its… Things are just different.” There was so much he wanted to add to that but stuck in his throat. He cleared it and threw the bag of his shoulder. _“I still love you though. I probably won’t stop; even when you finally fulfill that promise you made to me a long time ago that you’d be the one to put a bullet in my heart. I wish I could read your mind to see if you rescued my ass from London to get your sniper or your lover back… But hey, it’s the first from what I’ve seen…”_ Shaking his head he cleared his throat again, willing down the nagging feelings that he was over thinking or not thinking enough about it. “I’ll wait outside.” Sebastian picked up the guitar case with the rifle inside and headed toward the door.

                Blank eyes followed the other's movements, the skeptical expression writ on his face not shifting in the slightest. He didn't balk against his words, however, letting the obvious lie hang in the air like mist on a humid summer morning. The other was clearly disturbed by the other's answer, arms folded across his chest as he continued to stare at him. However, the statement, the fact that there'd always be secrets that were his alone and his alone earned a visible response as his upper-lip curled into a near-snarl. The man opened his mouth, ready to give him an earful when Sebastian cut across him, Arms across his chest, he listened to him talk with a less than amused expression.  “Things are just different?" he repeated, tone carrying a dangerous edge to it, his native accent irritated in the sudden rush of anger. Slowly, the other rose to his feet, but didn't budge from his position before the bed. "That's your excuse? I might have believed some of that bullshit if I hadn't been on the other end of whatever the hell you wanted to say happened in the SUV or in the diner. And don't you even start with me saying that nothing happened before shit went down in that diner. I've been on the other end of that look far too many times for you to pawn it off as nothing. And no shit I don't know a damn of what happened to you, but who the hell gives a fuck, yeah? I went through hell. Fucking, never want to go back hell. I take that back, I'd have enjoyed being in hell, might have been nice to take a vacation from what I had. But you know what? I came back. I came back for something familiar, something I remember, something I fucking missed. Yeah, you bleeding, over-reacting asshole, I fucking missed you and I left because of you." Mostly. "So try and tell me that things are 'different'. Don't know about you, but things really haven't changed for me." Silence fell, almost deafening in his ears. He hadn't realized he'd been shouting until then.  "Right," he began after a moment, picking up his own bag. "Ready?"

                He was stopped at the door, white knuckled around the doorknob. There he was again, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Torn between what he wanted to do and what he should do. What he wanted was to scream back that Jim didn’t know a god damn thing about what had happened to him while Jim ran around trying to survive on his own time. He’d left him and now the man had the balls to tell him that… His grip didn’t leave the doorknob but he knew he’d have to let go soon or it would break. Sebastian still wanted to shout back though. _“Damn right things have changed between us, Moriarty. You didn’t give a damn or you would have never left in the first place without me. You only came back because you left lose ends- something I know you hate. Things have haven’t changed for you? Well lucky fucking you. Fine, if that’s how you want it, so be it.”_ He screamed inside his head and turned, eyes narrowed at the other for a minute. Ringing silence filled the air between the two and he stared. “Fine.” It was a whisper. The word had an air to it. A finality that was unspoken. Sebastian put a lid on his feelings for the other completely. He’d protect him. Period. That was what he was supposed to do in the first place. He opened the door, looking away from him with a tight throat. “ _I say fine when it feels like I’m fucking losing you all over again.”_ Walking through he didn’t look back at him, “Ready. I’ll check out.” Sebastian didn’t notice the dents he’d made in the door handle from his grip.

                James had no idea what he'd expected and no idea what he'd wanted, either. Whatever it was, it wasn't what he'd gotten, that was for sure. Eyes fixed on the wall away from Sebastian, he didn't say another word to his whisper, didn't even give a signal that he'd heard the other until he stepped out. Left alone in the empty room, his head started to pound. Voices and hissed filled the empty silence, James the only one who could hear it. Some were Sebastian's voice, saying that things that were conveyed simply by tone; some were his own, berating him for the whole entire scenario; and, more still, were voices he couldn't even pinpoint. Alone for all of a minute, he stood there, pressing his fingers against his temples, and wished that they would all just cease. Eventually, they came to a dull roar, James able enough to hear his own controlling thoughts to move. Slipping out after shutting off the light, James shut and locked the door before taking out the path he'd come back from not even minutes ago. He didn't look to Sebastian in the lobby, didn't say a word, but walked past until he was back in the blinding sunlight. Squinting against the hellish light, he unzipped his bag to retrieve the obnoxious hat, sliding it on to give him a slight reprieve from the light. Waiting beside the door for his employee to resurface, James watched as crowds mingled before the ship, eager to get on. Couples. James groaned softly, wishing they'd taken some kind of damned cargo ship or something else, now.

                Sebastian came out right after him, keeping close but just far enough behind to put distance between the two. His eyes were taking in their surroundings, making sure to be the best possible body guard he could be. In the back of his mind, he slowly came to a choice. Soon as Moriarty was safe in Italy, he’d go his own way. His own way being much more permanent. The security passed them through with the rest of the guests onto the ship. A couple bumped into him and immediately apologized in a fit of giggles. Instantly he wanted to rethink his original idea. Damn with ‘this isn’t the expected choice to go with’ idea. But alas, they were on board and in their cabin by the time things were settled. Twilight came and the sun started to set. Sebastian found himself near the window of their room in the usual class section. It had a good view none the less. After a while of staring at the setting sun, the breeze off the water making a mess of his long- almost mid neck length- shaggy looking hair, he left for the bar. Maybe it was cruel that they weren’t speaking but… he just couldn’t do it right now. Too much water under the bridge he told himself, trying to ease the little hole he felt. Sebastian snorted, walking down the hallway toward the bar; he was a goddamn military trained sniper. It didn’t take long to find the bar and immediately order the strongest alcohol they had. The man he had sat next to- mainly because all the other seats were taken by other unfortunate men who’d been dragged on the outing because of their wives or husbands- turned to look at him. “You look like you’ve had about the same day I had.” Sebastian glanced up at him, memorizing his face. “I doubt that, pal.” The other man nodded, throwing back a whiskey shot. “Oh believe me. My wife is a –tich.” He hiccupped at the last minute and sighed, “I want to go home but all she wants to do is party.” The sniper chuckled, “Mine wants a divorce and I’m giving it to him.” He laughed loudly, “You’ve got me! Lot worse! Remember to take the dog with you!” The man threw back another shot before completely falling off the chair.  “Drink with me! To free men!” The drunkard yelled from the floor.

                Much to James' relief, they were ushered on quickly and given the passes to their room. The whole way there, with the screaming and laughing and noises, James' head screaming in retaliation. Newly-weds and couples that were still dating with the few that were claiming this an effort to "rekindle their romance." Being amongst so many of these dewey-eyed idiots almost made his stomach lurch. Or, maybe that was just the headache. Once ushered into their room, James was completely at ease for all of a minute with the complete and wonderful near-silence. It was short-lived, however, James wanting to be on his own more than he wanted to be able to think. His bag had barely hit his own end of the bed before he was out, again, mumbling something about needing air, despite the windowed balcony.

Plunging himself back into the massive crowd, James kept a finger pressed to an ear as he navigated through. Ten minutes out and on the opposite side of the ship, it was far quieter and James found himself amongst facilities for the visitors to use. A recreation room, a gym, a room with what looked like board games. Brushing by, James merely shook his head and snorted before coming to a dead stop. Library. Quiet. He darted into the empty room, letting the smell of it wash over him. Usually, something so mundane would have been disgusting and an abomination to the man who was always moving, but, right now, it was a gift. James spent almost an hour alone just browsing through before plucking up a few to read. Two tucked under his arm and one already pressed to his nose, James wandered aimlessly back towards the room, nearly knocking over several people in his pursuit. Finally reaching the room (after almost passing it), he slipped his keycard in and entered. "I don't want to hear a word out of..." James looked up, surprised, but far too pleased to see it empty. Tossing the other two books onto the foot of the bed, James curled up and delved into the silence of the moment. All was quiet and peaceful, James utterly alone (save for the room service bloke who'd delivered a glass, teasing James that it was a little early to be ordering alcohol. James merely grimaced and paid him) and feeling more content than he had in awhile, though still quite uneasy. James poured himself another glass, blaming it on lack of alcohol.  
  
                It was a long time later before the sounds of the crowd started to taper off. Either people were killing themselves with the amount of alcohol or they were returning to their rooms. The sun was far past set into the water when Sebastian finally came in. He slumped into the room like a kicked puppy, saw Jim reading and immediately wrapped an imaginary tail around him like a cat would if they were feeling… no, he wouldn’t say that. Outside someone laughed going down the hallway as he watched the other. His eyes were sad since the other man had talked him into ‘fixing it with his husband’ before passing out drunk. Being the good citizen Sebastian was, he had helped him back to his room. To say the least, the drunkard’s wife was pissed to a whole new level of angry. The man smiled a little bit, remembering when Jim would lean on him while he watched television in their down time. He’d always have the sports or the cooking channel low now the other could read. Or he would turn on subtitles on all together. Shaking his head, he reminded himself to not relive those memories for right now- he’d save them for a private collection later on to think about. It took him a couple minutes but he went inside the bathroom to shower. He glanced in the mirror at his injuries but didn’t take the time to take care of them.  
  
                By the time that Sebastian had entered the room, James was already a fourth of the way through his second book. Even as a child, he'd been cursed with the ability to read far faster than anyone else his age or, even, adults. It'd been a help getting through medical school and university, but, in his down time, it became more of a problem than an aid. In a single afternoon, if left to his own devices and allowed to clear his mind, he could knock off an adult fiction novel in under five hours and a medical book in a little over six-and-a-half. It was why in the span of his flat, his office had become wall-to-wall-to-ceiling-to-floor shelving of books that James had read over. That James would never seen again.              A frown was poised on his lips when the other entered the room, completely unaware of his presence or the events that the other had been through. It wasn't until he heard noises in the loo that his nose registered than the alcohol he smelled wasn't his own wine and that the noises were coming from within his own room. Glancing up, he caught the light underneath the door. Back. Late, too. James didn't allow himself to dwell on how the other spent his time, knowing it'd bring back the headache--or the ache of something else.  Idiot. James pressed his fingers in on his temples, again, trying to ease out the throbbing that hadn't stopped, but hadn't been this bad. Draining the glass beside him, James capped what remained of the bottle before getting up to tuck it into the small fridge. Stepping back, he slipped from his shoes, but left the rest of his clothes on before crawling under the duvet, attempting to resume his reading with the steady sound of the other's movements in the other room. Eventually, he tucked the book back into the drawer and laid down onto his side, the scene feeling both far too familiar and far too distant for that night.

                Sebastian got out of the shower and dried off slowly. The light in the other room was still on and he felt sick on his stomach suddenly. Would he talk to him? Why was this so hard to deal with? He scratched the back of his neck and looked over himself in the mirror. Bones stuck out awkwardly, his body looked like a knife board or maybe a gun range target. Rolling his eyes he continued to try off and wrapped the towel around his waist, exiting the room. Usually he was one to just walk around stark naked but in the situation he was in he didn’t feel it wise. A pair of boxers were found and slipped on in the privacy of the bathroom. They were a little big for him, since his waist was mostly bone now. The action of brushing his teeth had never taken so long in his life. There was no storm out thankfully tonight and Sebastian crossed the room easily before getting in on the colder side of the bed. He sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep on the floor of all things. The pillow was soft and he almost let out a groan as his head hit it. His back was to the other, but mainly keeping it now that the other wouldn’t have to talk to him. Jim hated talking after a spat; Sebastian knew that all too well. He would put it off until the sniper would bring him a cup of coffee or a book or something else before they would talk it out. None of those options were available and he certainly didn’t want to fix things. Or at least… he didn’t think he did. What was it that his old commanding officer used to say? Don’t get close to a charge? That sounded about right to him. Meanwhile Sebastian’s back- what wasn’t covered by the boxers or the sheets- was in plain view without his knowing. His burned off tiger tattoo was clear as day, as was the wounds he’d gotten earlier. They were angry red and painful looking, though the other didn’t complain. The boat didn’t even seem to rock, which the man was grateful for. He’d been known to have a small bit of sea sickness on occasion. His eyes slowly closed, trying to go into a calm...-esh… sleep.

                The presence of the other hardly helped to soothe James' frazzled nerves. Ordinarily, on a night like this, he wouldn't be laying in bed, certainly not after the amount of sleep he'd gotten and certainly not after a fight. Most nights, he would lock himself up in his office or, if he really was exhausted, force Sebastian onto the sofa. But, those were nights three years ago. He'd said it himself. It was all different, now. This wasn't Sebastian and James in a fight, this was the Boss and his employee at a disagreement. The thought made his head throb, again. James clamped his eyes shut tight, trying to focus on the sound of rutter against the waves, but Sebastian's breathing and the air unit tuned it out. After twenty minutes in the same position, James gave up, flopping onto his back in the dark of the room. Sleep wasn't going to happen, he really didn't want to have to talk to people outside of the room, and it was far too late to try and order roomservice, again. Instead, he found himself leaning back into the pillows and gazing about the room. Very little was able to be made out that wasn't a bulky shape like the armoir across the room or the figure next to him. Black eyes scanned over for a moment, James studying what he could see.. Most of it looked familiar, but the scarcity of something that'd been, albeit sentimental, esteemed by the criminal was a bit of the last straw. Gingerly, he rose up from the bed, walking to the foot of it. Shoving a hand down into his bag, he plucked out the carton of cigarettes and the lighter he'd bought from the convenience store. Quitting be damned, James took the pair and stepped out onto the balcony to try and calm himself down with nicotine. 

                Sebastian had nightmares again. Not that that wasn’t uncommon for him. But this time they seemed a little worse than usual. He woke slowly the next morning. Jim was somewhere, more than likely buried underneath the covers. For some reason he knew that this next few days, since it was a week-long cruise until their next stop, was going to be hell. He got up, put on the closest thing he could find to pants and checked the weapons. The man was using silence as his aid. He didn’t make a sound the entire time he was doing the actions. Eventually he left out of the room, not writing a note like he usually did because honestly, where was he going to go on a ship? The next week continued like that. Sebastian would come in late, having barely eaten anything but drank the ship of their alcohol with the drunkard named ‘Sidney’. He’d shower and climb into bed, sleep, get up and repeat. Though little things did change now and then. There would randomly be a book on Jim’s side of the bed, one that Sebastian would remember the other say it was his favorite. Sometimes there would be a full carton of cigarettes or even s new bottle of wine and some pain pills next to it. Little things that anyone else would notice on a whim.  Life went on for the next several days.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

                It was close to three when James slithered back into the room, replacing the cigarettes and lighter in his bag before going into the bed. He didn't fall asleep, didn't even attempt to, he just laid there pretending to until the other got up and left. On his own, again, James would delve back into his books and only surface out to steal more from the ship library. As always, he ate very little during the day and, when he did, it was what he'd bought from the convenience store. It was a boring way to spend the week, true, but at least it gave him a little peace of mind and Sebastian seemed to be enjoying himself. James never asked, thought it better than he didn't know, but he always seemed a little better coming back, even if he reeked of alcohol. He imagined that the other had fun doing what knows with who knows. That was the extent of the thought he allowed himself to give, not focusing on what exactly he could be doing with whom, who he found better company with after everything. Things were different. James had very little right to be upset, even if he brain wouldn't listen. The only person he ever had a conversation with, as he still refused to speak to Sebastian (or was Sebastian refusing to speak to him?), was the girl who ran the small library. She was barely twenty, her and her girlfriend of a year doing well--not that she had to say anything of that. She would ask how James was, tease him about stealing books, and act generally polite. James hated it, not that he ever let on. He would smile back, playing the part that he always did. Yes, another book. No, he and his boyfriend were still having a spat. No, making up really wasn't going to happen any time soon. Yes, he was fine. Yes, the book was good. Yes, he actually read it. Yes, he really was fine. And, every time he'd wander back upset about not having found the book he'd wanted, he'd find it set down on the bed in his place, surprised to see it, but would smile briefly, nonetheless. James supposed, the fourth time it happened as he plopped down and took another pill for his head, that they'd have to start acting like adults eventually and, he supposed, that was the start of it.

                The fifth night onboard the cruise ship, Sebastian didn’t return. The sounds of the ship were honestly eerily quiet and there hadn’t been much noise all day. The track to the library was empty, and usually, and the book that Jim had been looking for was in the library. It was a slow day but bright and the breeze blew in through the window as the sun rose high into the sky. There was no word from the other at all. Which- even when they weren’t talking- Sebastian would swing by pointlessly, being quiet as possible to pick something else up. One would say he was just forgetful and couldn’t remember to take things with him… but that was the sniper’s way of checking on the other. But on the sixth day…. Things seemed to change. There was no refill of wine. No new book. No sign of the man at all.  
  
                Exhaustion had finally gotten the better of him on that fifth night, James out cold with his book still cradled between his fingers. Much to his surprise, however, he woke up the next morning in the same position with the light still on. The other eased up, looking about the room for a change, a sign, but nothing. James brushed his teeth, trying to fight down the nauseous feeling as he did. Usual pursuits forgotten around noon, James found himself wandering outside of the room and away from the trek of the library. The book still tucked under his arm, he started up towards where he thought the food was, but he was positive he'd gotten lost more than once. After awhile, it wasn't so much trying to look for food, even though his body was begging for it, it was looking for hide or hair of the bloke he was supposed to be ignoring.  
  
                The girl from the library was gone too. As Jim wondered through the halls looking for food- or Sebastian- it got more and more apparent that the ship was empty. There were no noises except the ocean outside. Out a window he passed, land was about twenty miles away but still in sight. It seemed… strange. Men came around the corner, it was sudden- too sudden. They were far enough to be out of Jim’s reach but close enough to fire a twin tazers into the man. Enough voltage to knock him out. The book- as if in slow motion- fell to the floor with a thud. They chuckled to each other before tying his wrists with plastic ties. They did the same to his legs and the first man tossed Jim’s limp body over his shoulder.   
                Hickery stood on the edge of the ship, a smile on her red lips as she looked over the beaches. Her red fingernails tapped on the railing as he men sat the limp body of James Moriarty in a chair in front of her. She approached, the men backed off and trained guns on the man. She examined him before walking a good few feet away and ordering one of the men to wake him up. Beside her, Sebastian Moran was on the railing, being held there as he breathed shallowly from broken ribs. The sniper was tied to an anchor with large chains around his wrists, the skin underneath bleeding from the metal. He had a large bruise on the side of his face and was bleeding a little out of his mouth. The man had a killing look in his eye as the men kept him on the railing. Hickey chuckled as Jim woke, “Good afternoon, Mr. Moriarty. You’re hard man to find.” Sebastian growled from where he was.

                It'd all happened so incredibly quickly. James was quite ready to give up and just head back to the room, call it an afternoon as he'd endured far too much light that wasn't from his bedside lamp. Unhealthy, really. In that instant, his eyes locked onto a pair of men and, then, the object in their hands. In an instant, everything was painful and, then, it was black. Far too quickly, he was awake, again, and rather thankful that he had nothing in his stomach to hurl up. His eyes strained against the bright sunlight as he slowly came to. Voices and people and... James didn't flinch, didn't even look scared, just more or less inconvenienced. "Can you blame me?" he began, mouth feeling thick, positive that he could still taste the electricity. "If my welcomings were warmer than this, I might make it a little easier. Never been fond of electrodes, miss, and I'm certainly not, now." His tone was drawling, teasing, as if this didn't bother him in the slightest. His eyes took in the scene around him; men with guns, Sebastian attached to an anchor, a woman in red, and here he was bound on the deck of a cruise ship. For a moment, he wondered if he had actually woken up or have merely been transported back into a bad American film from the sixties. "I'd ask to what I owe the pleasure, but I'm pretty sure that I already know. Best to put this insanity to rest and act like adults, don't you think? Before someone gets hurt."  
  
                Hickery smiled, “Sorry, I’m not very good with introductions. I also can’t really shake your hand. I’ve heard how resourceful you are and an excellent boxer. Hope you don’t mind that we don’t get too close to you.” The man had their guns trained on him, just in case he decided to move. Sebastian spat a bit of blood off to the side, nostrils flaring, just waiting for the chance to rip the woman apart. The two men who had Sebastian were a lot stronger than he was and seemingly a lot more meaner at the moment. “I’m Hickery Mandell. I wanted you to see something. I promise it won’t take long. See, I’ve gotten news from my employers.” Her smile never left, it wasn’t kind or even cruel, more… insane than anything else. “Sebastian Moran was going to be sold off with you…. But they don’t have any real need for him anymore.” She cocked her head to the side, “But then I thought… I want to really pay you back for causing me so much trouble. Plus Clara was a dear friend of mine.” Hickery came close to Sebastian, but just out of his reach. “So… I’ve gotten the idea of getting rid of him. Anyone who goes back across a couple countries to rescue a man from us must be important, eh?” Her eyes flicked back to Jim.  Before coming to stand where she had been originally. “Your thoughts?”

                James listened on with the expression of an interested guest, as if he wasn't tied up and humming with electricity, as if his pet (damn fight or not) was chained up like that. His gaze followed her, noting the bits of her character that were worn proudly on her sleeve. 'Dear friend' might have meant a lot and James had a sneaking suspicious that she was as dear to Clara as Sebastian was to him. She might have even deluded herself that she was even more so. Open affection bred affection. "And here I was hoping we could get very close," he purred, utilizing his practiced ability to pretend that he had any desire in the opposite sex. Flirting always helped him relax, even if it was fake and meaningless. It made him think and, even more so, the situation got him a little excited. A week of boring had come to a bit of a standstill with something that made his blood sing. His expression diminished, however, upper-lip curling into a look of disgust as she brought his attention to the man tied to the anchor. She babbled on, James snorting none too softly at her boss' observations and her own words. James started to laugh, head back as he rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't flatter yourself, you and your boss were the last thing on my mind until a few moments ago and you're still hardly worth it. Honestly, what kind of idiot do you work for? Or, rather, what kind of idiot put you in charge? Making executive decisions like that?" James tutted softly, the bastard sneer on his face as soulless eyes burning with malice. "Looks like he's forgotten to tighten the leash on his bitch. I mean, sure, I had a woman who I trusted, too, but at least she had brains with the breasts that she flaunted about. You've barely got those, Miss Mandell. Only thing you've done right is tying me up and I'll bet that was Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum's idea, too."  
  
                She pouted with her big lips outward like she was hurt, she then smiled larger than before. “Oh no, Mr. Moriarty… See… My bosses knew you. Right up until I killed them. This was my idea. Every little bit.” Hickery turned and pulled a knife from a thigh holster under her red sundress. She let it gleam in the sun. “See, you’ve taken something from me. I only think it’s fair that I take something from you too.” Sebastian seemed to understand what she was about to do and struggled. The woman whipped around and stabbed the blade into Sebastian lower abdomen. He gasped in pain as she shoved it to the point that he was pressed up against the railing. The men around them snickered as his mouth was half open in pain. She twisted it, pulled it out and shoved it right back in.  Hickery laughed, “Good luck with the sharks down there... Throw him over!” She stepped away and Sebastian’s eyes found Jim’s one last time.  
Maybe it was the trick of the light, but Sebastian gazed at him for one moment before closing his eyes completely. Many people didn’t get the chance that he did. To look at the one… the one the loved one last time. He wanted to keep that image in his head. The men tossed the anchor over the side. The chain went over the side quickly and the sniper stepped back before it could pull him. Falling to his death.   It was a horrifying silence for a bit as Hickery watched Jim’s face with the insane smile practically glued into place until two splashes were heard. “Just wanted you to see that.” She whispered, a little bit of Sebastian’s blood was on the ship’s deck from where she’d stabbed him but there was nothing else of the man. “Taze him.” The tazer hit the back of Jim, sending him back into darkness.

                It'd registered before, far before the woman had bounced back from her façade, but there was so little that James could have done. Anger was usually a good motivator, though, not in this case. Not in the case of a person who views that they have nothing left to lose. Human emotion, such a fickle and unpredictable thing. Black eyes watched without a flicker of emotion, James silently praying to whatever was above, to his mother if she still had the strong connections with her God that she said that she had. He'd have traded a thousand more services in Mass alongside his mother, eerie afternoons with the priest who always eyed the small boy far too comfortably. 

_Don't let him leave me, again._

  
                Blue and black met in an exchange that James never wanted to see happen and James didn't give a damn what anyone else saw. For a solid moment, he allowed himself the burden of being human. It was loss and hurt and "I'm sorry" and I never meant it any of it and regret and human and soft and that phrase he'd never let once burden his lips since he was in secondary school. He'd refused to say such a thing before, but now he'd have taken it back just for a moment.  It was over before it'd hardly began, the expression back to nothing more than blank and lifeless. James didn't offer her the luxury of a response, almost lost in his own thoughts when the splashes occurred, and he hardly even made a sound when the electrodes plucked at his skin and he fell to blackness once more. 

  
                Hickery was watching him. She was now clad in black, jeans and a turtle neck, with a gun on her side and a replacement knife for the one she had left inside Sebastian. They were inside a warehouse, Jim was tied painfully tight into a chair that was almost bolted to the floor. Her eyes were on him like a cat on a mouse. “Good morning. I thought we’d have a little chat.” Once again, there were men around him with guns. Far enough away that they wouldn’t be touched by him if he decided to somehow break his bounds and come at him. There were four. There was an open upper floor where four more men were trained on him. The room was closed off, except for the area behind the woman in the chair, which was windows. “It’s question and answer time. For you and me. The men I’ve sold you to will be coming soon and I want to know a few things….” She trailed off with a pleasant smile.

                And he'd just thought that he'd had a hell of a headache before. The nightmares certainly hadn't helped either. James never screamed during them, never made a noise, and his only betrayal was the pick up in breathing and the way his body would break out into a sweat. At the moment, it was almost helpful, he thought, awaking... Where was he? It took him a few moments to readjust. Warehouse. Men trained on him. He could see two without turning his head. Probably two behind. Far away. They were nervous. Oh, big, scared men with guns were always such a joy. Always made for extra injuries. James tried to shift a bit. Bound and bolted. No. Not bolted. Idiots. The woman's (if she could be called that) voice got his attention, but he didn't give way to it. His eyes continued to scan over the place for awhile longer before looking to her. James didn't say a word, didn't even give her any indication that he understood what she said. Pale lips were set into a thin line and he stared. It wasn't even the cocky expression he'd worn before. This was far less human, the only tendril tying him to his humanity long since devoured by all manner of carnivorous sea life.   
  
                Oh she loved that look on his face. Seeing him completely emotionless was better than seeing him weeping in her opinion. “You know…” She started out, “I went back, just to see if I could find something to bring back to you… It was a massacre. Blood was everywhere~” She sung the last bit, teeth showing, “Couldn’t even find a skeleton but there was lots of skin. It must have been painful. I didn’t stab him in any major organs so he would have suffocated, watching the sharks move in on him.” Hickery was enjoying this beyond anything else. “I knew it was a good idea to let him go. We knew that someone like him would attract attention.” She stood and walked around him, a good distance away. “See, the good thing about Sebastian is that he never screamed, didn’t beg, didn’t say a damn word about you. I remember we had him just like this except we put screws though his feet. Boiling water…. Cuts… bruises… we asked him a lot about you and he still wouldn’t speak. We damn near thought he was a mute.” Hickery sighed happily, “Best part of the entire torture though is when he finally did scream. We took this lighter here…” She pulled out Sebastian’s old lighter. The special one that he’d gotten from Jim with the tiger carved into it, and held it up. “And I burned that tattoo off of his back, piece by piece.” She flicked the lighter open.  
  
                James listened to what she said, thinking over how much of it could be plausible--he hadn't almost become a doctor and took away nothing. Her words didn't bring out a reaction from the other, he just thought it over, active imagination visioning everything she said. Despite that, he didn't flinch, he didn't snarl, there wasn't even a hint of malice in his eyes. The voices in his head did it well enough for him. Screams and shrieks, threats and things he'd have said if he weren't bound up like a caught boar. The scarring. Of course, she'd been the one to explain that. Her and Clara, a team going after Sebastian. Charming, really, if he could stir up anything towards them beyond abasement. Ah. So, she'd been the bitch to burn off the tattoo. His eyes flickered to her hand, looking the lighter over. Oh, how sentimental. So, that's how they ran this. It gave him an eerie back-taste of George Orwell and "1984". He had to wonder, though, was he Julia or if he was Winston? He supposed it was all on what was his Room 101. Or, was this supposed to be his Room 101? Reminiscing over a dead man, no matter what he might have meant, didn't stir feelings, not when he'd distanced himself this far, he told himself. The whole time, James didn't move, didn't do a damn thing while she spoke. His eyes followed her movements, he listened to her words, but he didn't say a single thing and didn't betray a thought in his head. He seemed almost cut-off from the conversation, his fingers twitching idly. Bored.

                She opened her mouth to say something else when one of the men hissed. Her head snapped up, “What?” The man shook his head, “Feedback from the mics someone’s fucking breathing into it again.” Hickery sighed angry and back handed Jim hard enough to send him into his side as someone else hissed. “What the fuck is going on?” All of the four from the bottom started to hear the mics fuzz and go out completely. The woman looked around then pointed at the four upstairs, “You four- go check the perimeter!” As her hand raised the speakers that were used for shipment calls started to sound. Her face went from an insane grin to shock and then hate. A song played over the speakers, a haunting and slow dance that sounded like something straight up from the grim reaper’s music box with an electric guitar added. The men tried the intercom on their shoulders but it started playing the music too. It was loud and seemed to get worse  
  
                Hickery snarled, “Go turn that shit off and report back to me immediately!” The men headed toward the staircase on the side of the room when all hell broke loose. Fire erupted from the windows of the other building. The four men on the top floor were blasted into the afterlife. Gun fire, a rifle no less, fired from somewhere and two of the men beside Jim were shot down with seemingly one bullet. The power went out, Hickery was screaming. It was all one big mess. The two men left started to fire their weapons, bullets going of Jim’s head as he was on the ground. Another rifle shot rang out, killing one, bouncing off something and killing the second. Hickery was panicking a few feet away, with her gun out. She fired randomly until there was choking sound. The lights came back on, the other parts of the building exploding. The woman lay dead in front of Jim, her eyes staring ironically into his with a knife sticking out of the center of her forehead. Someone came up behind Jim slowly, righting the chair and starting to undo the ropes around his wrists. It took them a few moments and then they came around to the front. Before Jim could even see who it was, lips met his. “Thank god. Sorry I’m late.” Sebastian Moran pulled back, leaning down with a grunt to cut the binds around Jim’s ankles.

                A slight smile twisted at his lips as the man hissed, complaining of problems with his equipment. It wasn't so much the problem as much as Hickery's reaction that made him make use of more of the muscles in his face. James hardly had time to give it a second thought, however, as the impact of a woman angered knocked him back off of the four legs and onto the floor. His head cracked off of the concrete and James tensed, a groan escaping as his world went spinning. God, yeah. No, not fun. Granted, it sure as hell was better than what he'd expected. And, honestly, it just kept getting better. One by one, the air started to fill with static and sounds, then, music. It surprised James more than anything. A smile flitted across his face and his shoulders started shaking. Before he honestly could control it, he was cackling like it was the funniest thing that he'd ever witnessed. It was brilliant! Terror spread out, Hickery absolutely beside herself with panic. Then, everything came back into focus. James knew well enough not to move, head tucked against his chest as he heard the first crack of gunfire. One by one, the group of the goons began to drop dead at the malice of the marksman. When the power went out, James felt himself tense. Everything seemed to get so much louder and the air was far tenser, James having enough mind to doubt a shot in the dark--literally. Though, the choke and the cry and the sounds of bodies hitting the ground didn't phase James, but when the lights came back on and he was face-to-face with the dead woman, it managed to shake him. After that, all was silent. He wasn't sure if he should be thankful or not to his rescuer. Once more, he lapsed into silence as his chair was righted, the mysterious figure freeing him up. James endeavored to twist, hands free, now, to get a good look. Immediately, however, his vision was blocked and he was effectively quieted up. The voice and hands and lips and... What? For awhile, he just sat there, letting the other work at freeing him. When he spoke, James came back to, a retort sharp off of his lips. "Took you long enough. What were you doing, fighting sharks?" A shaky, raw hand grabbed a fistful of the other's hair, kissing him, again.

                Sebastian answer was cut off at the lips smacking into his. He looked at the man before chuckling, “The sharks weren’t the problem. The twenty mile swim was a little difficult with a bleeding stomach.” The man gestured toward his soaked clothing and the wet hair. “We’ll talk later, alright? We need to get out of here before we blow up with this damn place.” The sniper finished cut the ropes around Jim’s legs and grabbed him. He looked at the body of Hickery and snorted, “Dumb bitch.” He muttered taking the lighter from her dead hand as a little of her brain came out of the wound where the knife was. He was moving slow but still fast enough to jog out of the only exit that wasn’t on fire. His stomach pained him but at the moment he was happier that he’d gotten here in time and he wasn’t dead. They got outside and into a shipment dock when things started to blow up with a little bit more vigor. The warehouse roof blew off and Sebastian tugged the man behind a large cargo crate. He rested against it as the rest of the warehouse blew sky high. “You okay?” The taller asked, trying to take deep breaths.

                Later? What, no, now. James had far too many questions to ask and things that just didn't make sense. Like, for one, how the hell he'd survived something like that. Faking his own death had taken months of planning, forethought, and malice and, yet, Sebastian had managed to pull it off. He'd kill him for it when he finally got his mind and use of limbs running up to par, again. He just nodded, though, getting to his feet at the other's statement. Stretching his limbs out, a near smile-tried at his lips as the other picked up the lighter. It was at least nice to know that he hadn't lost it. As Sebastian started from the building, James kept little more than a pace behind him. Truthfully, he didn't understand the rush if the group was dead... He couldn't have been serious about...? Picking up the pace, he was a little surprised when he was tugged down behind boxes once they made it outside. The air crackled and burned with sulfur and it took James a few moments to process it. His gaze fixed to the burning building and he found himself laughing a bit. "Injured, confused as hell, might have a concussion, oddly proud that you managed to blow up a building, and randy as hell, Now, how the hell did you survive that?" Joking aside, his expression turned serious as dexterous hands sought to figure out how he had not bled out already.  
  
                He was going to make a protest about the cops coming in a few minutes when he decided that hell, not only was this a mainly abandoned shipping area, that it might be the safest place for them. At least for now… Sebastian put a hand on his shirt and pulled it up, shirt threading of all things- from his very own shirt that he was wearing- was keeping the wound most of the way closed, though it was still bleeding badly. “Damn bitch threw me over the side and the anchor took me to the bottom. I was running out of air, I got the chains off but the fucking sharks were everywhere. I took the knife out of me and stabbed one of them enough now they would go after it instead of me. I barely got away with my limbs…” He had to take a deep breath, “When I surface the ship was already halfway toward the port. Twenty miles later I came up on shore, sowed myself up enough to keep some blood in me and chased after you.” Sebastian looked at him, “And by the way, before one of us actually does die, I’m going to come out and say it. I fucking love you and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Now help me up because I can’t feel my body.” Maybe he was being a little too forthright but… he just swam like hell in eight hours, sowed himself up with a rusty needle he’d found in the sand and shirt thread to stage an epic rescue.

                Fingers skated the edge of the cut, looking it over. Damn, she'd done a number on that, another reason James was rather regretful that he hadn't been the one to kill her. Granted, if he had been... He let his own thoughts trail off, not quite ready to tug himself down that road, again, in his current state. A weak laugh eased out as he looked it over, devising a plan of attack in the back of his mind. "God, I'm starting to wonder if you're cursed," he mumbled, tone fond despite all odds. "You really can't die, can you?" It wasn't that he was complaining, though, it was certainly more than he'd hoped to see the other, again. He wouldn't cry over it, James hadn't cried since he was in secondary school, but the emotion was there. He was relieved at worse, elated at best. A thin smile worked at his lips, liking the terminology. Chasing after. It held something a little more fairytale to it and he'd always been a pushover for one of those. James yanked the other's shirt down over his torso before easing to his feet gingerly. Hand extended out, he helped him up, laughing in spite of the situation. "I love you, you fucking arse, but if you ever do that, again, tiger, I will skin you." It was the best Sebastian would get.  
  
                “Don’t worry, I’ve still got four or five lives left.” He whispered taking the hand and grunting as he was pulled to his feet. Sebastian felt sick for a moment, but that more than likely because he had a large hole in him. Wincing as he reached his full height, he had to lean on the smaller for a second before straightening. “Alright, let’s get the fuck out of here.” The other wouldn’t admit it, but he was weak and the more time he was running made the stitching come out. Eventually he started to bleed through his shirt again. Still he didn’t stop until they were out of the shipyard and about to steal a car. “Pick a place in Italy and lets go.” He grunted, “You’re driving…” The man added sliding slowly into the passenger seat in pain holding his stomach.

                Despite his usual manner, James was oddly patient with the other. His words earned him a thin, but evident smile and he didn't flinch from the other's weight. As they continued along, his eyes kept darting between the path ahead of them and Sebastian's wounds. Even if it wasn't in a major organ, it had to have severed muscle groups and he sure was bleeding more than was healthy. Altogether, it wasn't an ideal situation. They were almost to where they needed to be, too, making matters almost worse. Getting caught here... Well, that had already happened. Getting on the driver's side of the car, he slipped in, mind reeling. Italy. Driving. Hospital? A man with no record, no papers, and no money in a country that he was foreign to. Maybe hospital wasn't the best option. Sebastian needed to be tended to, however, that was evident. Once both doors were shut, James started off, not quite sure where he was going, yet, but content enough to drive until they got to someplace. "Search the console and glove compartment. Credit cards, cash, or anything of use."  
  
                Sebastian leaned upward to search wherever he could without moving his lower regions as much as possible. There was a small bag of coins in the center part of the car but nothing more than a pack of cigarettes. He chuckled softly at them. He glanced up at the other, seeing the tension lines in his face. “I’m okay.” The two words were a whisper and a little bit of a lie mixed in… but regardless he didn’t need the other worrying about him- at least not for now. “Just get me some alcohol, and some more thread and I’ll patch myself up… Just like in Berlin.” The sniper offered him a cigarette that he’d lit for himself, his shirt was still blooming red. The material was once dark blue had turned black. A car drove past them and he only glanced at it. Hickery and Clara were dead… He didn’t have to worry about them anymore and he’d gotten the other back in seemingly more than one way. If push came to shove, he’d hold out. Sebastian didn’t want to be skinned just yet.

                Driving on, he was only half paying attention to the other. His eyes glanced between the road and the man, trying to gage which needed more of his attention. Bone dry. He hated when they looted someone smart. Cash would have been a miracle, but James would have taken credit, too. He needed to get his bank records opened in Italy. Wouldn't be hard, really, and it would take twelve hours at the most. Transferring his records only required a fingerprint, something that Moriarty never had. After that... James relaxed a bit, letting his thoughts spin wild. For a minute, he was lost to his own mind, but brought back rather sharply at the smell of cigarette smoke. His eyes turned over and he took it from him, putting it to his own lips before taking a long drag of the object. Nicotine worked its practiced magic, James immediately settling down. "I'll do it," he mumbled around it, eyes still peeled on the road as rolling city came into view and stores flickered by. "It's got a far steadier hand than you. Take your shirt off, wrap it around your waist over the spot. Put pressure on it, but don't put the pressure down into it or up into. Just keep it evenly pressed, but don't push it enough to hurt."  
  
                The man was focused out the window as he lit another cigarette. Flame flickering as he tried to light the damn small lighter. He coughed slightly, the cigarette behind held in place by his pale lips, he leaned up, pulling the rest of the stitching out in his stomach with a hiss by accident. It was only a quick fix anyway so it was understandable. Sebastian leaned forward, removing the bloody shirt and tying it around his waist that was bleeding more than it was before. Red oozed from it and the man chuckled softly. He leaned back again- more because he couldn’t hold himself up- and rested a hand on his abdomen like the other had instructed him to do. Shops flashed by and his eyelids started to drop. Eight hours ago he’d been stabbed and that was better than most victims of stabbings could out run death. Not to mention he hadn’t been in perfect health or an athlete either. His light eyes found Jim and he smiled watching the other _. “I’ll just rest my eyes for a sec…”_ He thought but kept a slow breathing pace. No way he was just going to go out in his sleep. That wasn’t Sebastian Moran.

                James took in another breath of the cigarette before tossing it out the window. Both hands back on the wheels, James pressed with a little more urgency. His eyes flickered to the other, swallowing back the lump in his throat. And here he'd promised himself that he'd never work with fixing people up, again. Funny. Almost.  Cutting the wheel sharply, the vehicle came to a turn and rest outside of a store. James threw the vehicle into park, taking quick and fast breaths, and attempt to alleviate what semblance of calm he'd managed to procure. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he was halfway out of the car already while he was babbling about how Sebastian needed to put the seat back and if anyone else but him care near the car shoot them. With that, he was out of the car, paused only a moment to lock it, before sprinting into the store. In most situations, he'd have gone in guns a'blazing and demanded what he wanted. As it were, the situation hardly afforded that. He paused only a second, bracing himself before pressing his teeth hard into his tongue. Immediately, he could taste blood in his mouth and his eyes watered. Barbaric, yes, but it did the trick. Storming into the store with his eyes streaming and his breathing erratic, panic evident in his movements, he couldn't have asked for better luck when an elderly woman ran up and asked what the problem was. James was thankful that his speaking was far better than his reading ability, replying back in a babbled tone that he and his boyfriend had been attacked and it'd have been impossible to get to a hospital. In all honesty, James wasn't even quite sure what he was saying, trying to talk around the pain in his mouth without showing off the fact he was bleeding. It took very little pleading (though he added it for effect) before the woman helped. In under a few minutes, James was sprinting back out to the car, more in his hands that he'd expected. He bailed back in, ignoring the condition he was in. "Drink about half of it," he dictated, shoving a bottle of some kind of alcohol in his hands. "It's going to hurt."

                He had leaned back while the other went inside the store like he had been told to. His eyes slowly shut and he found himself in one of those little place that you weren't sure if you were there or if you were caught in so cheap joke. The room around him was dark, just this side of uncomfortably cool – for now; the coolness would be welcome since there seemed to be a fire in his stomach – and almost painfully quiet. Sebastian waited as patiently as he ever did for a plan; still, quiet, unconcerned. He stayed in the chair as all sorts of shadows moved around the room in slow motion. It wasn't what he had expected this to be. It seemed too calm, too easy to be here. His mind regained a little bit of what he was doing and asked himself where he was. He jolted away from where he was in the car and coughed as Jim got back in. His wound hurt more now if that were possible and he took the bottle from the other gently and preceded to chug. The bottle was nearly halfway gone in a second and the man handed it back to him. Feeling the urge to either puke or to continue to lay there, he went for a third option and took off the shirt carefully. Shirt material clung to the wound for a moment, almost sticking to it as it was removed. A hiss came out and he leaned back, taking deep breaths. Fatigue was setting in from everything else. The stab wound was about two inches long, more than likely more than four inches deep and the blade was serrated; it was just a couple inches away from the left of his belly button. It oozed as Sebastian breathed, "Alcohol doesn't work on me anymore... Just do it..." 

 

                Flipping the console up, James allowed himself to kneel half on Sebastian's lap and half in the space between the seats. He rummaged through the bags, pulling out the container of needles, supposedly specialized from what James could read of it. Easing one out, James fumbled out the dark thread, unspooling it as the other hand reached into Sebastian's pocket for the lighter. Flicking it open, he was thankful for the bit of liquid left in it, running the feeble flame across the needle to sterilize it before threading it.. The man leant forward, taking a moment to examine it. Taking the bottle from him, he gave a weak laugh before pouring a bit of the contents over the wound. Crude, yes, but it'd do the trick, for now. Using the bit of the shirt that wasn't caked in blood, James soaked up what remained of the alcohol. His hands were oddly steady, one placed towards the lip of the wound. Black eyes glanced it over for a moment before nodding quickly. He murmured out something about how it was going to hurt like hell before sliding the needle in and quickly getting to work. Long fingers worked the thread knowingly, tightening it and winding it when needed so that the edges of the wound came together and would be able to heal. There wasn't any form of hesitation in his movements, years of education flying back in one split second. 

                He tensed under his fingers but Jim was thankfully quick. Sebastian had had much worse than this, so he was keeping as still as possible for the other. At least that would stop the blood from coming out of him so quickly. Knowing him he wouldn’t go to a hospital so it would have to do. “Member that time in Barcelona…” His little smile came into play as Jim worked on him. “We were jumping from rooftop to rooftop after a deal went bad. I was shooting beyond us and fell of the roof?” The sniper watched the little piece of silver metal go in and out of his skin painfully but didn’t realize how much it did actually hurt it yet. “I fell and you climbed down to see if I was alright before dragging me off of the road. You patched me up then too.” His eyes were heavily lidded, “I heard you that night… with the storm outside and you were working on me….”

                Still a bit of the wound left open, James pressed the cloth to the corner, watching the blood flow up the shirt. This would be hell to try and come back from. They'd have to slow down, obviously. Sebastian would have to eat a lot more, as well. James considered it a good thing, then, that they were where they were. It was close enough to afford a slow down. "Hm? Oh..." James laughed a little, switching out for another piece of gauze to wipe blood away. "Bloody idiot. Yes, I remember you falling off of those rooftops. Scared me senseless." His lips twisted into a frown as he sewed up the rest of the wound, continuing to doctor and bandage it. "Don't fall asleep on me, yet, tiger," he encouraged. "What'd you hear?”  
  
                His eyes were fully closed but he nodded, “I won’t fall asleep. Not until we’ve found a place to go.” Sebastian offered the other a wry smile anyway, “Besides the numerous threats you shouted at me while you pieced me back together?” He chuckled before wincing at the movement of his abdomen.  
“Sorry…” Jim returned to his work, sending a look at him that made his lower parts freeze in place again. “That was the first night you told me you loved me… Couldn’t really die then could I? Same goes for now.” The man took a deep breath to collect himself a little better. “I think I’ll take up gardening…” He muttered, switching subjects in a heartbeat. “Or techno dancing… I heard a good bit of Italian trance washing up on shore.”

                A feeble laugh stumbled past his lips and James shook his head, amused by the other's words. Right. Damn bastard could survive hell and back. He'd survive this, one way or another. Half listening to his words, ointments and salves were spread across the body of the cut, letting it seep down into there, but still keeping enough around it. Picking up the gauze, James eased it around his hips and wound, covering it completely with enough pressure on it to aid it. There was pause, a singular moment when James looked up, almost sheepish. Yeah, he remembered that. It'd been ages ago. In reality, it felt like another lifetime. James had been desperate and confused. It was the first time that he'd ever cared about losing someone. He and Sebastian, well, it was a difficult relationship, but it worked and James had realized that, too. The threat of losing him then stood as potent as it was, now, and it made the criminal a bit uneasy. James finished bandaging, putting a thicker and stronger one about it before pressing lips to the other's forehead in a wordless sign that he was finished. "Gardening or techno. That's new," he admitted.  
  
                Maybe he was being too forward again. Maybe Jim wouldn’t- “Sod it.” He thought and brought up a weak hand to cup the other’s face by the chin. His eyes took him in and loved the way Jim looked at him right then. Sebastian brought his lips forward to meet his, muttering a thank you against the other’s. The other hand stayed on the bandages as he shut his eyes for a moment. Opening them back up he cocked his head to the side in curiosity, almost like puppy would. “I think it’s about time we had a new beginning. I mean, gardening is a hobby mainly.” His smile widened a bit, “I don’t think I could go to shops with little old ladies… sell tomatoes and such…”

                For everything that had happened and the hell that they'd been through, there was a very small part of James that thought that might have been worth it. A crooked smile twisted at his lips as James leant forward into it. He'd missed it far more than he was letting on and he was being quite obvious with the bit that he did. James was content to let the moment drag on for ages, but not too terribly disappointed when it ended. He kept up the close proximity, though, taking advantage of the fact that he had his tiger back. No sharing, as always. "There's such things are grocers, Sebastian," the man reminded, laughing nonetheless. "If you're inclined to do so, by all means. We'll find some place in Italy you can garden as long as it has WiFi." As much as he was glad to be starting over, James was going to miss how things used to be. Italy would be nice, a good change, but it wasn't London. "We'll figure it out, yeah?"

                “Always.” Sebastian whispered, running the thumb of his hand over Jim’s cheek. His black eyes caught the sun just right to see that they were actually just a very dark chocolate brown. The smile never left as he looked at him, “WiFi is a must for any occasion.” He chuckled and adjusted in the seat as the sun made its final descent. “Doesn’t feel like a week has passed.” Someone drove past breaking the speed limit blasting music but it didn’t distract them. The taller sighed softly, not really wanting to move from the position he was in now. “We’re going to have to drive on aren’t we…” The whispered was sad and he made a face at the idea.

                Sebastian's good mood was, for want of a better word, infectious. Between the smile, the laughter, and the gentle brush of his hand over his skin. James found himself having a hard time not feeling rather giddy. They'd been through a lot together, far worse apart, but a lot, nonetheless. They'd survived. That was the point that James focused on. They were here, in Italy, and were closer than James had allowed himself to believe they'd get. Also better than they'd started, even in the condition they were in. "Really?" he mumbled, raising a hand to the other's hair. Long fingers twisted through it fondly, expression thoughtful. "It feels like it's been ages. For me it's hard to believe that it's  _only_  been a week." His realization brought a smile to James' lips, the other leaning forward to press a kiss to Sebastian's own. Sentiment be damned. He'd been gone three years and had almost lost him. James was allowed himself to break another rule for his sniper. "Yeah. We'll get a bit further inland, find a hotel to crash in. A nice one, mind you. I'll open up my account. Spend a few days there, get a house or something. It'll be good. Get set back up, again."

  
                “We’re getting so domestic,” Sebastian joked softly, “Next thing you know we’re going to be having tea on the porch in rockers…” He trailed off at the thought, still very close to the other. A low breath escaped his lips as he trailed off, “…and all of a sudden the shit that I wasn’t considered to be complete bull for me sounds great… long as I do it…” For the first time in ages there was a pink tent in the other’s high cheekbones and he shrugged, having an attack of the shyness. “Well you know… you.” In his own utterances he tried to cover, “Not to say that I’m going to give up my profession or anything… but tea is nice…” If he could have, Sebastian would have been repeatedly whacking his forehead against the nearest object. When had he turned so soft on- in a realization he blushed deeper. _“You moron, you’re not soft in general you just turn into mush at the thought of a sorta calm life with the person you love… damn, nevermind, you’re a chick.”_

                 The colour in Sebastian's cheeks brought a smile from James' face. No, not quite domestic, but settled. James doubted that the word "domestic" would ever truly apply to them. Yes, there'd be a few times where the word could apply to their actions, but even then, they tended to have a somewhat abnormal twist to them. It wasn't breakfast unless something exploded, James sent a threat to someone, or business interrupted. But it would be nice to have that routine, again. James chuckled quietly, pressing his lips to the other's in a reassuring manner. Gently, he ruffled his hair, smirk toying at his lips as he joked that it was probably just the bloodloss talking, giving him the option to save face, even if the pair of them knew better. "Tea is nice, though."

                His brain stopped functioning again when he kissed him- but it was a good thing. Thoughts of being a chick and too emotional were immediately cut off. When the other backed up he nodded, feeling the fingers thread through his hair. “Tea is awesome…” He muttered using the slang and cocked his head to the side again, wondering what he was allowed to do. Sebastian was pale and weak, yes, but… it still didn’t have him completely- The other caught himself and cleared his throat; there was no way that was going to happen right now. Sebastian peeked him on the lips once more before sighing, “We better go, that old lady from the shop is coming. Can I sleep now?” Sebastian felt like he sounded like a child, asking the other when he could sleep. His eyelids were drooping again. 

                The criminal took a glance over his shoulder and sighed. Damned bint. He nodded his head, sliding back into the driver's seat. Situating himself and tucking the console back between them, James started up the engine. They still had half of a tank of gas or so left, enough to get them further away from here. Foot to the gas pedal, James started from there without another word, though it was obvious he was far calmer. For good reason, though, he reminded himself. "Go on," he mumbled, the back of his hand contacting gently with the other's cheek, brushing long fingers against the skin. "Don't get too comfortable, you'll have to wake up, again, soon. But rest for a bit. You need it."  
  
                Sebastian was already half asleep when Jim’s fingers brushed against the side of his face. He turned his face, kissing it softly before going back to laying his head off to the side limply. “I’ll wake up…” Cars flashed by as Jim drove and the other man stilled in his sleep. It barely looked like his chest rose and fell with his pale skin. There was a bit on blood on the bandage but not an alarming amount. Sebastian moaned in his sleep from time to time but didn’t wake. Clouds rolled in though no storm came with them. The road stretched out and it seemed quiet again. With the main organization after but him and Sebastian… would things become calm again or… There were so many questions.


	7. Chapter 7

 

                 
                He dropped his hand to the wheel, trying not to let his surprise show. It really shouldn't have. Three years and damn if Sebastian couldn't read him almost all of the time. James drove aimlessly for about an hour, not daring to turn on the GPS as he did so. He followed the signs of the main road, dissecting them as best as he could. Eventually, he came to a rather busy city, enough people to blend in with, but not big enough to be a prominent place to look. Pulling up into the car garage, James threw the few things of value that they had into the plastic bag before gently shaking the other. "Wake up, tiger, we're here."  
  
                The other didn’t stir for a moment and then opened his light eyes slowly, blinking at the artificial lights like a man who just breathed his first breath of air. He inhaled deeply through his nose like he was savoring it before turning to face Jim.  For the once the other looked peacefully content. Eyes heavily lidded and chest rising and falling calmly. After a few moments he seemed to wake up more and right himself in the seat. “Where are we?” Sebastian’s voice was just above a hoarse whisper. A tongue darted out to wet his lips before glancing over the other to see if he was all in one piece as well.

                The scant moment of panic died quickly when the other stirred in the seat. James found himself laughing at the other's almost vague expression as he endeavored to figure his bearings. "We're in Treviso," he explained, opening up the car door before coming around to the other's side. "It's not that far from Venice, but far enough to be a little harder to find." James eased the other's door open, trying to ease him from the vehicle as best as he could. "You feeling alright there?"

                “I liked Treviso…” Sebastian said softly getting out of the car and using Jim for support momentarily. Okay, maybe more than a moment. His legs felt a little numb and his shoulder’s ached. In the end he straightened himself like something out of a book. His spin cracked when he stretched and his wound burned. The taller gave him a small smile before nodding, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” One hand trailed along the car door as he walked forward, making sure each step wouldn’t result in face-planting on the concrete. It was slow but he made it. Rolling his shoulders, he looked back and offered his other hand, palm up and fingers slightly outstretched a little with a faint smile. “Coming?”  
  
                It almost surprised James that he was able to hold the other's weight, the startling fact settling in that Sebastian really had lost a lot of build. A few years ago, that much pressure in this state might have knocked the pair of them to a floor. Not for the first time in that week, James felt a twinge of guilt aching in his stomach. James nodded at his words, shuffling along just beside him to make sure that he didn't topple over. When he seemed sure of his step, he found himself smiling back, laughing at the outstretched hand. He didn't mock it, however, letting his take it securely, spidery fingers curling around it. "Yes, of course," he promised, locking the car before starting towards the lift, careful not to go too fast. 

                Sebastian smiled a little more as Jim’s locked with his. They slowly, as if that was the only speed they could muster, walked on toward any place they could find. The lights of the buildings and the noise of the people moving rapidly around them speaking Italian and different- but close- language to that was a little… strange, but not unwanted by the other. He kept close to the smaller man, still feeling a little unbalanced. A couple walked past them and said hello but neither answered. An Inn sign loomed overhead after a while and Sebastian looked up, “Here?” His voice still as soft as ever, hand keeping a weak grip on the other.

                The street were odd. It was certainly different than anything he'd ever been associated with. Even his time spent in Italy, it was always with the company of Mafias and rich men. Granted, it wasn't a bad thing, but seeing from the point of view of a no-one, it was cheery. Honestly, that was the best word for it. People were smiling and laughing, talking with each other in a crowded city. James wasn't exactly used to it, but it put him on edge, even if he didn't betray it. Navigating through, he nodded when Sebastian asked about the Inn. Opening the door, he helped the other in before leading towards the front desk. It was nice, quiet, really, but better than the places they'd vacated before. The man at the front was happy to help. Jim Moriarty far forgotten, James Brooks filling out the information without a problem. Given the key, he started to tug Sebastian towards the lift, again.

                The other took him into the lift and he almost blacked out as the lift started up. The little tug that came with the elevator almost sent him downward but with a firm grip on the railing- why did lift’s need railing? He kept up right. “Everyone here is nice.” Sebastian chuckled, “You get one bed or two?” It was an offhanded question but more than likely a dumb one. He was cold and felt tired still and leaned against the lift’s walls. “Just thought with one bed… we could stay warm… you know, survival training.” The taller muttered casting him a playful glance as the lift stopped and they headed toward their room.

                A thin hand coiled around the sniper's wrist, James looking to him with an evidently worried expression. When the other seemed fine, his grip relaxed a little, but his hand still kept in place. He could crash on the bed and sleep, but they hadn't reached their room just yet. "It's Italy," he muttered, laughing a bit. "And neither Rome, Florence, or Naples, so, I imagine that's what it's like. One of the weakest fighters in Europe, still better than France. Granted, if I lived my whole in a place like this, I might be a little less hostile, too. Ah, and one. Was cheaper."  A thin smile twisted at his lips at the other's reasoning, helping out towards the room. "Yes, of course. Because that's the only reason you want to share a bed in a heated room."

                “You’re rambling, love.” Sebastian muttered propping himself up on the nearest wall and gesturing toward the door since the other had the key. His soft smile clearly said he didn’t mind. “Naples was the nicest.” A couple walked by going to their own room and talked about the ghost ship coming into port. He chuckled, wondering if that had been his ship and what had happened to the rest of the people on board. Maybe all of them were in on it. That was unlikely… but not unheard of. He watched his surroundings as the other walked to the door and opened it. “Well, you’re not that warm so I guess you’re the air conditioning.” His chuckle was short as the other opened the door completely. The key stuck a little and they went inside. He saw the bed and sighed through his nose at the sight of the bed. “Good thing that guy didn’t see my shirt. Might have called the police.”

                James stepped up and slid the key into place, it taking a few minutes to figure how the damned electrical card worked. He understood that these were deemed far 'safer' and more 'controllable', it sure took a lot longer than the brass keys that he was used to. Obviously, they were still in the midst of transferring over, doors across the hall still designed for brass keys. Modernization, always a pain.  "Guess it works out that opposites attract," he teased, letting the other in. Shutting the locking the door, he started to let himself relax. James put the key down on the table along with the bag before slipping from his trainers. He gave the other a thoughtful look, stepping towards him to look it over. "Damn... You do look like shit," he mumbled, a surprisingly affectionate tone still there.

                Sebastian laughed softly looking him up and down as well, “Don’t I always?” He let out a smirked and glanced around the room, “Should we get some rest or eat something?” The other meant for him to eat and not himself. It seemed like the starvation would kill him before the knife wound would. Besides the peanuts and alcohol he’d consumed at the bar on the ship, he hadn’t eaten a thing. Then again he wasn’t all the hungry, just bone dragging tired. His eyes were heavily lidded again as he watched Jim go about the room. “I doubt they have room service.”

                "No, sometimes you look good," he countered, fingers running lightly over the surfaces as he looked about. Everything was in Italian, but it was nice and it'd do in the mean time. "Rest for now, you look like you're about to fall over," he answered, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Then I'll go see later if I can get my bank account to be recognized here. Then, you're eating." His tone was pointed and there was no argument allowed in the way that he spoke.   
  
                “I’m coming with you to the bank…” He muttered going toward the bed and crawling in to his usual side. His body cracked as he moved and finally collapsed, much the other had predicted onto the mattress. Sebastian kicked his shoes off and kept his face buried into the bed. The mattress felt heavenly to someone who’d been turned into a pretzel to sleep in a passenger seat. One hand reached out, touched the back of Jim’s hand to make sure he was there even with his eyes closed, and retracted again. “I’d rather not eat.” The man said softly in reply.

                A thin smile twisted at the corner of his mouth and he sighed. "As much as I would love to allow you to accompany, your shirt might frighten the dull public. Unless you've got something else in mind, but might be better to let you rest, anyway, until we can get you a better shirt." The criminal crawled up further onto the bed, exhausted and quite content to lay down for a little while himself. A slight smile twisted at his lips when Sebastian's hand brushed his own. "You need to, though. You won't heal unless your body had proteins and carbs to work with, tiger," he reasoned, reaching out to run a hand through the other's hair.  
  
                He nodded, liking the feeling as he lay still on the bed. “I can borrow a jacket from someone… One keycard works for every room. All the bar codes are the same they just don’t want people to know that…” Sebastian opened one eye, “If you really want me too I can throw down something…” Someone noisy went down the hallways causing the blue orb to flick toward the door before going back to look at the other. The expression he had in the car was back his he roamed over the other. “We really made it didn’t we… this isn’t some dream I came up with right?” Sebastian had always wondered that in the back of his mind. Had he come up with this idea that maybe he had finally gone crazy. That this was some made up world and he had gone with- Hell, he might have even succeeded with those suicide attempts back in the day.

                Soft laughter eased out, far from discouraged by the other's solution. Wasn't a bad idea at all, really. James was alright in his current attire for the time being as they blended in better than anything else that he'd have picked out. Even better, the blood that had splattered onto it was almost invisible on the dark fabric. "I would certainly prefer for you to eat something," he mumbled, drawing himself closer. Sitting comfortably there, James tried to ease the other to sleep, long fingers dragging over his scalp. It was something that he'd taken to doing in the flat on nights when he needed to think, but didn't want to be alone. He'd either sit down besides Sebastian or on Sebastian (depending where he was) and just start toying with the blond locks. Eventually, it surfaced beyond that to moments where they were quiet or homely. There were also the few times, when Sebastian was agitated after a hit or something else, that James did it to ease the other. At the moment, it was something desperately familiar in such an unfamiliar place. "We're here," he promised, looking to him thoughtfully, hardly phased by the loud movements outside. "No, this is real." 

                He breathed out a soft sigh of relief and angled his head toward the other, “Thank god… because if I wake up from this I doubt I’ll stay sane this time.” Sebastian moved a little closer to the other, shivering almost. Even the normally chilly James ‘Brooks’ was now warmer than he was. Goosebumps formed as he nuzzled into the pillow more. The other man continued and he smiled a little at the ministrations. “Oh.” He muttered before pulling away to fish in his pants pocket for a moment remembering something he’d found in the backpack on their last day aboard the ship. The jingle of a twin pair of silver dog tags, one with his name, rank and such and the other with the rest of his information. He took Jim’s hand and put the circular tags in them, chain attached. “Those are yours.” Sebastian’s eyes were closed now.

                His smile was warm, that borderline expression of adoration that he saved for the man lingering there. The shivering coaxed out a laugh, James stroking the other's cheek before returning back to his hair. "It'd be warmer if you were under the duvet, tiger," he mumbled, shaking his head at him. Sometimes he wondered just how the hell the other managed with him and he wondered the same thing about the reverse a time or two. Being dead had tended to make the past week of problems rather unnatural. No one had ever searched out for him, all the rumours and lies believed to be true. Obviously, that wasn't the case and, until things were back to the way that they used to be, James figured that they'd be fighting off monsters. James wasn't as nervous as perhaps he should have been, putting a good deal of his faith in the other. A faint look of surprise crossed his face as the familiar object was pressed into the palm of his hand. James found himself laughing quietly, a happy look on his face as he looked them over. He'd never been quiet over his admiration for the tags and he'd worn them before everything had occurred. Before it'd all happened, James remembered putting them back into the bedside drawer that morning in addition to the golden crucifix of his mother that he'd worn like a fifth appendage. He honestly doubted if that would ever be salvaged, but he took solace from the gift. Stringing it around his neck, he tucked it down the front of his shirt and let it rest comfortably against his chest. "Damn right they are," he mumbled quietly, tone warm.

                “Always will be.” He promised to him, laying a limp hand over the other’s waist and scooting a little closer. Wind blew outside a little harder and people cheered about something in a bar a few doors down. Maybe a late night game or something? He didn’t know, just practically cuddled the other. No one, not a single living soul, knew that Sebastian Moran liked to cuddle. “You’re warmer than that.” He mumbled. Was this what things were going to return to? After so much had happened things were going to return to at least a little normal for them? Things would have to get better from here wouldn’t they? His eyes shut completely and started to breath slowly again, falling asleep. A good amount of time later, Sebastian woke still wrapped around the small man and smiled at the sunlight coming through the window that hadn’t been shut the night before. The scene felt familiar and he kissed the other’s forehead. “Hey…Today starts the rest of our lives.” That sounded good to him.

                James didn't make a fuss when Sebastian moved closer, rather amused by it. It was nice, a little chilly, but he wasn't going to complain. "You're daft, I hope you realize that," he replied, watching the other drift off with a thoughtful expression. It was nice, really. It was peaceful and quiet, too. Sure, they'd had that on the ship, but it hadn't been this comfortable, not with each other. Somewhere around an hour later, James found himself in the same position and drifting off. He slept deeply and dreamlessly, completely at ease for the first time in years. He might have slept another few hours if there hadn't been the stirring beside him. "Congrats, tiger, now sleep," he muttered, gently pushing at the other's face, pushing back in towards him as he tried to pretend that he would actually get back to sleep.

                “We’ve got a lot of work to do today, kitten.” He whispered in his ear, nuzzling him awake like he used to. Outside people were busy moving around and going to work. Sounds of cars and people calling for newspaper in their native language filled the air. Sebastian smiled, “Stay in bed then… I have to go do something. I’ll be back, alright?” The taller kissed him on the head again before pulling himself off the mattress with a grunt. There was two keycards in the little packet and he spared a look back at the other before throwing blankets on him and walking out to go find clothing to wear without anyone screaming. There was a list in his mind of the places he needed to go. Get clothing was the top. Get more bandages was next then ‘borrowing’ a car again, then he’d pay a visit to the local mafia for a job. Cash flow was important and he certainly didn’t want to drain the other’s funds now that they in the clear supposedly.

                Laughing as memories of good, lazy mornings were brought back by the gentle wake-up, even if James tried to fight against it. Still settled into the bed, eyes shut and curled in on himself, he listened to the smooth voice in his ear accompanied by the sounds of an oblivious world outdoors. James mumbled a vague reply, not quite ready to get up, even if he knew it'd be useless to lay there any longer. It wasn't until Sebastian left the room that James even attempted to stir. Feet hit the floor as James eased himself up, regretting it almost immediately. While the option of curling back up and sleeping was still obviously there, the faster things got done, the better. And the sooner he could reacquaint himself with technology, again. Stopping down to pick of his shoes, James made the best effort to straighten his own appearance. Picking up the notepad from the small desk, James scribbled out something about going to find the bank. With nothing more than that, James slipped out of the hotel with the key tucked into his trouser pockets. It was a quiet afternoon, easy to listen and to keep alert as James wandered the streets in an almost aimless fashion. 

                Sebastian tried the closest doors that didn’t have anyone in it. Of course it earned him with no one renting out the room, but after a few tries, he found someone who was staying the hotel who was his size. A leather jacket, a couple hundreds were in the third. The next room held a new pair of boots along with a shirt. The sunglasses sat next to a pair of keys and he raised an eyebrow. After a moment he took the sunglasses, going to another room to find another pair keys. With the new wardrobe in hand he searched around a purse twin case of luggage for some bandages to change the ones wrapped around his torso. The last thing Jim or he needed was to get infected wounds. It didn’t take long for him to be dressed again and out the door. Keys weren’t hard to find either since most people liked to walk around.  Stashing a few items inside the maid’s carts he made his way down toward the parking-lots. He’d need to find his rifle, which was missing along with everything they had taken with them on the boat. In the back of his mind he imagined killing Hickery one more time to make himself feel better. The man didn’t like to think about all the hell he’d gone through to replace the guitar case’s insides and dragunov rifles were hard to come by, whatever country you were in. He pulled out of the parking space and started to go down the road toward the building he’d last been invited to. It was going to take some convincing to start up a small batch of employment with the group again. Shaking his head, he decided on focusing on the task instead of worrying about the outcomes.

                At the end of a street, people were rushing in and out of a large building. Even with his less-than-perfect understanding of the written language, James could easily recognize the word 'bank'. Stepping into the place, James mulled around for a second near the entrance. Despite the look, it was rather packed. Almost every teller seemed booked up. James was rather surprised to hear a warm voice at his elbow. A thin smile twisted at his lips as he replied in her foreign greeting. Immediately, her light eyes lit up and she asked if he was from Ireland. From then on, the conversation was simple. She seemed utterly delighted to have run into someone from such a 'proud and honorable country'. James agreed to disagree. Once she seemed appeased enough with the information, James was lead to a room. Half an hour passed, Dr. James Brooks (he'd kind of forgotten that part of the name until then) had his account moved from Ireland to Italy. Another hour later, James had a functioning debit card tucked safe away from prying hands and an account that he could access. He bid adieu to the pitiful creature, the woman flipping her hair for the fifteenth time in that hour, before exiting the place. His hand was pressed down into the base of his pocket and, honestly, he didn't know where to head off to first, though his stomach answered that for him. 

                By the time Sebastian had a job and had gotten the funds to obtain a new rifle, things had gotten a little more complicated than he wanted them to be. The head of the house, Don Cornelo, hadn’t been very happy with him the last time he was in Italy. A fresh bruise on the left side of the sniper’s face was a testament to that. But after some smooth talking and dodging bullets, he’d earned a job with a pretty good pay off. At least for now. What could he say? Four thousand wasn’t what he used to rake in but these were trying times. Cornelo had a simple job thankfully and a way to dispose of the body fairly quickly. It had gone in and out without anyone noticing. It would be weeks before anyone found the body. Sebastian swung by the bank, just peeking in to see if Jim was still there. A woman was flipping her hair at the man who seemed to be both interested and bored at the same time. _“Good luck with that one, sweetheart.”_ He snorted, heading back in the opposite direction. There was a vender and briefly wondered if he should get something to eat. The smell almost immediately made him sick so he turned away. There was another job he could do that Cornelo had only said was chunk change. Hell, a thousand here and there was good for him now. He’d finish the job and come back to the room with take-out or something. More than likely he’d forget it though.

                To be honest, he wasn't quite sure what 'Focaccia di Recco' was, but stepping into the small vendor shop, it looked about the only thing he was willing to eat. Tucked safely into the bottom of a thin bag was a cup of what the vendor woman had promised was reheat-able soup. Hell or high water, he promised himself that he was going to force Sebastian to eat something. Anything. Soup was, therefore, their best option. Rather, until the sniper was able to process whole food without getting nauseous, it was their only option. 

                Outside of ensuring that it didn't spill over, James hardly gave the food another thought as he wondered, nibbling on the pastry and cheese pocket. The further along he went, the more grandiose and extravagant the store fronts grew. A thin smile threatened at his lips as James came to a stop before an Armani outlet. Really, that'd never been his style, Westwoods always a far superior fashion in his eye. That wasn't to say that Armani wasn't equally as appealing, on the contrary, James had had a few tucked into his closet. The criminal stumbled a few steps along towards the door, eyes wandering the build of a deep, navy coloured suit. Cool wool. Double button waistcoat. Lapel collar. The card in his pocket seemed far heavier than it had a moment ago. It took extreme self control to drag himself away, patiently reminding himself that anything he bought now wouldn't fit once he got back onto a regular schedule. Yes, he'd always been thin, but his current state pushed it. James pressed on, not sure what he was browsing for when an electronic store caught his eye. Something necessary, chimed a voice in the back of his head as he swept in. His eyes swept over the array around him as a cheerful associate stepped forward, welcoming him in, and offering to show him around. James replied in English that he'd be fine before walking along, feeling like a child let loose in a toystore. He browsed through the makes and models, finally coming to a stop before one that looked similar to his previous one. 

                Sebastian left the last job with a new set of bruises, the wound on his stomach half reopened and about ten thousand sitting in nicely in several different pockets on his person. The measly one he was getting for the job wasn’t compared to what was in the man’s safe. Which the sniper was thankful for Jim teaching him a while back how to crack some of the cheaper ones open. With the body, ironically, sleeping with the fishes with a good amount of bricks on top of it- the job was done. He walked the rest of the way back to the little Inn. The maids were getting checked out by the managers and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile to himself a little. Letting himself into the room he took off his jacket, tossing it on a chair and realized immediately he’d forgotten the food. He promised to get up later and get something for the other whenever when he came back. Sighing he laid down in the bed, leaving the blood splatter shirt on the floor beside the bed and trying to get a little rest. Money was sticking out of his jacket.

                In under an hour, James was back out with a laptop stuffed into the other bag. It was enough to surely keep him occupied for the next several days, or weeks. It wouldn't take as long to rewrite the programs as it had before, James still remember a good majority of what he'd done to the first. He might even be able to improve it, something that made his inner IT-worker shiver with anticipation. The walk back to the Inn wasn't anything stressful. A few folks smiled and nodded in his direction, but he was ignored by most. Despite the fact that the place was nice and quiet, James couldn't wait to get out of there. Once he had the laptop running, he'd look into a place for the pair of them and a job, for the time being. In a sense, he was dropped back down to what he'd been back when he first started. It was a thought that sat Silly with him. Stepping into the Inn, he nodded to the woman at the desk before slipping back towards their room. He slid his key through before stepping into the room and locking the bolt on the door. James set both his debit and his key card on the edge of the table before setting down his purchase bag on the edge of the bed. He shuffled over towards the microwave, pulling out the container of food before popping it in. "You look like hell," he remarked, turning back to him.   
  
                Sebastian sat up at his entrance and groaned softly before going right back down. “I always look like hell.” He muttered suddenly sore, the nap wasn’t nearly as good as he’d thought it was going to be. The man opened one eye to see what Jim was doing and raised his eyebrow at the computer. Things were returning back to normal alright. Smelling food he turned his attention to the microwave and sighed, “You were serious about making me eat weren’t you…” He trailed off and sat up again. The stitches pulled as he went to the jacket on the table, pulling out the stacks of money and putting his coat away. “I did a few jobs now we’ll have some flash money in case anything happens. We can get a car later if you want.” The closet door opened with a light scrape and he put the jacket inside it along with the boots. Honestly he wasn’t planning on going out anymore and if Jim demanded that they did he wasn’t going to budge easily. A shower would be nice but he knew the other would pressure him into eating. “We’re you get the soup at?”  
  
                "Oh yeah," James nodded his head, leaning back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. "You'll find that I was quite serious about you eating. Tiger, you're not going to heal otherwise. I'm surprised you're even still functioning. Besides, all it is Tomato Basil soup. It's a bit thicker than broth, but nothing really in it." Listening to the other's announcement of cash flow, James was rather conflicted. Yes, that was good and it'd certainly help build a client list when the time came for it, again. But James didn't like sharing. At all. He never had and, somehow, he knew that he never would. Even as a child, he'd always been the one who refused to share his toys. And his sniper was his favorite toy. The microwave rang out and James eased the container out, retrieving the spoon from the bag before setting them both down on the bedside table. A hand gripped Sebastian's arm gently, steering him back to the bed before all but pushing him back onto it. "Small little place not too far from here. It's safe," he promised, nudging him towards the soup. "Ate a pocket with cheese in it earlier and had a taste of your soup. It's good. And it'll make me really, really happy if you eat it, tiger." 

                Sebastian gave him an incredulous look that clearly stated that he didn’t want to but would. He sat down and looked at the soup as if it would come up and bite him. “If you start this I’ll get fat.” Of course, the man with the ribs popping out of his skin said that like he was describing the weather. The money was pushed away from the eating area and he took the spoon in his hand. Did he really want to puke today? No, but the look Jim was giving him was… Great, now he had to do it. Sebastian bent himself forward to more or less drink it off his spoon. The heat didn’t bother him in the slightest as he took a few more. Starting to feel sick again he backed off of it. “Small steps, alright love?” He muttered leaned back into his chair. It had tasted good… but he would prefer it to stay in his stomach and he wasn’t going to push things at first.

                Unpacking the box with all of the enthusiasm of a child at Christmas, James let Sebastian pick at the soup in peace. It wasn't until Sebastian spoke that James looked up. A thin smile on his lips, he took what was left of it, put the lid back on it, and tucked it into the crappy little refrigerator that was furnished in the place. "Of course," he mumbled, taking his perch back on the edge of the bed. Plugging in the adaptor, James kept the laptop off to the side before walking over to Sebastian. Stooping before him, analytical eyes sought out the injuries that had occurred, wincing at the stitching. He took a step away. "I swear, you need to take it slow, alright? Lay down. It'll make this easier and you need to sleep," he stated pointedly, embracing the role of being a doctor, again. It felt odd, to be truthful. "Oh, my account is set up, so, in addition to what you have, I think we'll be just fine," he murmured, bringing the bag of medical supplies over to the bed.

                “I’m fine. Just a little tired. If I sleep anymore I’ll just be up all night.” Sebastian sighed and shook his head. He waved off the medical bag that Jim was bringing his direction. “I’m fine. I just can’t stomach much more than that or it’ll come up.” The other didn’t seem to be listening to him and he made a disgruntled noise of protest. “I know we’ll be fine I just want to contribute. I have a lot of time to make up for.” The statement hung in the air between them as Sebastian’s light eyes settled on the other’s. He picked himself up from the bed, watching out for the power cord and sat on the other side of the bed. New injuries didn’t make his old ones less painful and he stretched, back popping few times. “Don’t waste any more of the supplies on me. You don’t know when we might need to pack up and leave and can’t get anymore.”

                Standing in front of the bed with his arms folded across his chest, James shot him a withering look. "I'm sorry, is it completely necessary for you to balk at every little thing that I say? 'No, I won't sleep,' 'no, I won't eat,' 'I got it myself', and 'don't waste it on me'. Hell, I've met infants learning words who'd use the word 'no' less than you." James plopped down in front of him once Sebastian took a seat, the bag at his side as he began to work over the sniper. "I understand you want to make up, but I've messed shit up, too. I should have been there to protect you as much as you insist that you should have been there to protect me, alright? I understand that you can't eat much more, that's fine. But I want you to eat more often. Again, revenge for what you used to put me through. And I understand that you want to contribute, I won't say no to that. Having cash around will certainly be helpful. Paying for a vehicle or a house in cash, however, is going to look a bit sketchy. I'm glad that you have it and everything you're doing to help is nice." Pressing a cotton pad to the shallower marks, James was cleaning him with little problem. He'd have to fix the stitching, which would be a pain in the arse for the pair of them. Stitching it once was awful, but stitching, again, was going to be one hell of a nightmare. At least he wasn't still bleeding all over the floor. That was an improvement.  "And I'm not wasting them, I'm taking care of you so that I can continue to annoy you and use you for my own gain. So, shut up, take it, and get used to it," he muttered, fingers working dexterously over the wounded man. 

                For once in his life, Sebastian Moran was utterly silent. Multiple expressions crossed his face but not a single one stuck for more than a minute if that. Anger at first for being told to just deal with it, then confusion for what Jim had said to him and made a cross between understanding and pride. The cotton stung against the wounds they went over as Jim continued speaking. It was a long monologue but he couldn’t help but enjoy just a little. “Well Hell, you do care.” Sebastian chuckled; reaching one hand to stop the other’s which was working on a cut on his shoulder. He leaned forward and kissed his lips, pulling back he had a little smirk across his own. “I promise I’ll be a little more agreeable.” Jim may threaten and curse and scream but honestly, the other had never done anything to outright cause him harm just for the hell of it. Well… there was the beginning but Sebastian was trying to kill him. The sniper let go of his hand and allowed him to work on the stitching. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time in his opinion. Shutting his eyes, more out of fatigue than being disgusted by a needle going in and out of his flesh, he waited for the other to finish what he was doing with the knife injury. He was honestly surprised that he hadn’t bled out last night, let alone been able to swim so long to stage an assault. Sebastian smiled to himself, honestly proud of what he could accomplish. Not that it wasn’t that he couldn’t do it to begin with, but rather he was never willing to get stabbed and dragged underneath hell enough to try it. “We’re in a mafia controlled town, buying large objects with cash isn’t going to be that obvious. Especially with how many rich prats are running around.”

                The silence from Sebastian might have been the best reaction that James ever could have hoped for from a man who always had something snarky to say (James had taught him well). Granted, the looks on his face as he processed what had just been spoken might have rivaled it. A self-satisfied smirk of his own crossed his mouth as he continued to work, but surprise taken away his features as Sebastian's hand unexpectedly stole over his own and he was kissed. James found himself laughing into it after just a moment, enjoying the sweet, but wonderful brevity of it. "Of course I do, you damn idiot," he muttered, returning to his doctoring, a smile in place, now. The minor wounds cleaned up and dressed, James took the stitching as carefully as before. He ended up managing to seal off the break and merely restitch the rest, really not bad at all. Unlike before, however, he didn't cover another bandage over it and the cleaning wasn't as thorough as it had been the day earlier. "Unfortunately, we're not Italian and we're a pair of blokes who look like hell. They expect a bit more from nicely dressed folk who look like they can legally afford things. Whether or not it is legal is a while other story," he joked, tucking the things back into his box. "Besides, credit is still an important thing here and my card grants me wonderful credit. Enough of that, though. Go wash up, but be careful, alright. I'm not stitching that up another time." 

                Sebastian opened his mouth to protest when he remembered his promise. Eyes narrowed he said softly, “You planned that. I know you did.” He got up from the bed feeling his stomach muscles pull painful and immediately chose to ignore it. It took a bit but he managed to get into the showered and clothing stripped off. “We’re going to have to find a laundry place or something. Or buy new clothing.” He kept the door cracked as usual. Many years in the military didn’t teach him the value of privacy for himself and ever since he wasn’t very concerned on shutting doors. The sniper tossed his clothing on the floor and looked at himself briefly in the bathroom mirror. His eyes found the burnt away tiger tattoo and he paused for a moment. That was one thing that was going to get redone when things healed up more and life was a little more stable again. No, the scar tissue wouldn’t be able to hold ink any more. But his torso would. After a moment of choosing where the tattoo was going to be he got into the shower to wash off the blood and salt that stuck to his skin from the other evening.  He got out a while later, stitching still miraculously in place and he peeked out the door with a towel around his waist.


	8. Chapter 8

Tucking the bag down into the bedside table drawer, he laughed and shook his head. "No, you reek of blood, sweat, and sea water. Now, while I find that extraordinarily sexy, making the bed smell like that might not be as kind." James got to his feet, easing out of his shirt and jeans for comfort and cleanliness' sake. He set them both atop of the dresser before reclaiming his perch before the laptop. Laid out in front of it, he brought the sleek beauty to life with a small noise of glee. Yes, electronics were James' kryptonite and he'd gone for so long without them. Long fingers stroked the outside of the machine lovingly. _Soon, my precious, soon._ " New clothing would probably be the more favourable option. Blood is awfully hard to try and remove from clothing and we'd scare half of the patrons. Besides, having a little variety would certainly not be a bad thing, not that I don't adore living in the same clothes day in and day out," he admitted, settling down to his self-proclaimed task. Twisting idly at the chain about his neck, James waited for the screen to pull up. He glanced up a few times, catching sight of the sniper through the crack in the door. A smile tugged at his lips. It was getting back to normal, despite everything else that they'd been through. It was amazing, really. An empty page pulled up and James started to type away at the keys. Line after line of computer code was entered as the mastermind began on his task to redesign the device from the inside out.  

                “Oh no, wearing the same clothing is amazing. We don’t have to pick out clothing for the next day.” Sebastian stepped out of the shower, hair only a little wet since it had taken him so long to dry off without ripping anything. It didn’t take long for him to notice that the other was pretty much in the nude and kept his eyes averted as best he could. Did he really have to do that now of all times? “Hope you don’t mind, but I’m out of clothing and I doubt the maids would be okay with me running around stealing people’s under garments.” Sebastian approached the side of the bed, watching the other type rapid commands in the new computer like a professional. He never could see how the other could do that so well. The towel was kept around his waist as he leaned back against the bed, eyes ever watchful.

 

                A soft chuckle sounded, James shaking his head back and forth, absently at his sniper's comment. "Yes, but the fourth day in a row of wearing them, they begin to move on their own accord and that tends to scare the locals." In the silence that subdued the room, James zoned back into his work without much problem. A slighter patter of rain smacking against the roof served as a sedation for the already relaxed criminal. Code after code was entered into the hardrive of the machine, rewriting the useless software, James wracking his memory to piece what he'd done oh-so-long ago. Years, honestly. He knew that he'd have to go back later and change things despite the good bit that he remembered. At least the security, one of the most important aspects, was clearly obtainable in his mind. It wasn't until Sebastian spoke, again, that he himself spoke and not until he was at the edge of the bed that he looked up. "Why would I mind?" he asked, a smirk threatening at his lips. "Never have before, tiger." Attention back on the laptop after letting it sweep Sebastian, he nodded towards the bedside table. "There's dressing in there. Wrap it around the wound on your stomach. Or do you want me to help you with that one?"  

                “I’ve got it…” Sebastian muttered softly looking at the other’s back with lingering eyes. He knew he should keep his roaming orbs to himself but damn if James was making it difficult. The laptop thankfully drew the other’s attention away from him as he stood, rummaging around for the bandages. It didn’t take long to find and he briefly let go of the towel to unravel them. Apparently, his bone hips didn’t think he deserved much privacy either and the towel dropped. Sebastian shut his eyes feeling the material thumb around his ankles. “Son of a…”The other whispered and reached downward to put it back around his hips. With a new faint shade of pink on his cheeks, he sat down to put the dressing around his ribs- not daring to look at the other.

                James replied to his affirmation with nothing more than a distracted "Mhm." This was the part that had been a pain in the rear last time. End of the line, beginning of browser modifications. James frowned deeply, fingers drumming absently against the mousepad. A noise of consternation escaped, eyes shut tight in an effort to reign back in the memory. Despite his efforts, it just wasn't coming back to him. His head dropped down against the device in defeat, ears perking up at the other's voice. Looking up, he was met with quite an eyeful. Laughter stemmed out, watching in amusement as the other tried to hide himself. Saving his progress thus far, he shut the laptop lid and set the device on the table beside him. The man got to his knees, arms looping his shoulders but not pressing into the area that mirrored his stomach.  "Problem, pet?" he purred in his ear.

                 
                He went stiff as a board feeling the other’s breath in his ear. Arms wrapped around his shoulders made him realize how close the other really was and he shook his head. Voice low as he looked at the other from the corner of his eye. The bandages were still in his hands as he answered, “No… Not a single one.” Sebastian turned his head to look the other in the eye completely, hot breath blowing against the other’s skin. It kept a lot of self-control to keep his eyes upward. One hand came up, resting on the arms around his torso.

  
                He felt the other go stiff beneath his hands. It was both an amusing and a concerning thing. The idea that Sebastian wasn't still comfortable with him hit a little harder than it shoulder, but the hand on his arm was just as good at convincing him that, maybe, it wasn't all that it seemed. "Promise?" he asked, smirk still in place and eyes not bothering to show a trace of what went on inside of his head. Long fingers tapped thoughtfully against the muscle there. "Because you seem awfully tense to me, tiger." 

 

                Sebastian blinked slowly and kept his gaze on the other still, lids lowered. “Promise.” His thumb gently rubbed the skin of the other’s arm as he listened to him speak. After a moment he shrugged as much as he could. “Old habit.” The other didn’t know what James was after, but he could feel it something underneath the breathy silken tone. Eyes flicked over the other finally and a ghost of a tongue flicked out to lick his dry lips. That was torture. His body didn’t relax, not yet- the thumb stroking the arm slowed to a stop and he cocked his head to the side at the same speed.

  
                His fingers fell into a steady rhythm, mimicking the heartbeat the stirred under them with a few sub-beats added, to keep it interesting. The movements were steady and relaxed, even more so when calloused fingers brushed against his forearm. What harshness that was harboured in the smirk diminished to an almost-smile, enjoying the feeling there. "I suppose so." The smile was short lived, unfortunately, chuckling as he watched blue eyes divvy away from his face momentarily and the tongue the briefly wetted the man's lips. Letting his chin perch on the man's shoulder, he turned his head slightly to let his lips ghost the man's ear. "Go on, as you were."  
  
                “Sorry… I think that would be impossible… Because you’ve made me forget what I was doing.” Sebastian whispered to him, eyes focusing on him once more. His voice making a low rumble in the back of his throat. The fingers against his chest made the only noise besides the air vent in the twos breathing. His thumb didn’t return to it’s former action as Jim’s head was on his shoulder. A car honked it’s horn loudly outside and then it was gone in a shower of rain storm again. There was a need in the back of his mind to lean forward and just capture the lips for his. The need to write ‘mine’ all over them was there again- but he held back. Waiting for the other to do something or tell him what to do.

 

                A soft chuckle eased past his lips, his arms drawing a little tighter around the broad shoulders. Skin and skin fell into cool contact, James allowing himself the luxury to press his chest against Sebastian's back. "So easily distracted," he chastised with a playful inflection to his voice. "Not a shining quality of an impeccable marksman, distraction." James seemed hardly bothered by it, though, the playful look still in place. The car and rain continued on unnoticed, the man wasting his curiosity of observing the other's movements. The smirk pulled more prominent at his lips as he leant close, teeth tugging lightly on his earlobe. "Does my tiger want to play? Or are we just going to gape at each other all evening?"

                Sebastian felt the thin arms wrap around him once more. Enjoying the feel of another pressed up against him. “I am when looking at something that deserves my attention.” It was a quip back at the other, like a peacock showing it’s feathers. This was normal. The dance they had right before something happened. His eyes were ever watchful as James’ breath hit his ear once more and then the feel of the other’s teeth on him. Now that brought back memories. He turned, reaching out for the other and forgetting the towel completely. The bandages that were on his lap rolled away on the floor but the towel was held there. “The tiger is willing if the ring master is.” His voice took a deeper tone as he captured the other’s lips.

                Allowing himself to be obtainable by the other, James fell closer. A soft laugh shook his voice as he found a steady reply, "Oh, always." Sunburnt, weathered lips found reprieve against Sebastian's, teeth already nipping and vying for the soft flesh. James was content to let the embrace start off feral and possessive, a little more energy and confidence placed behind his kiss. One hand reached up to tangle in the wild blond locks, burying his pale fingers amidst the sandy hair he tugged and pulled lightly on them. Old memories like the calm after a storm came flooding back. This wasn't like the kiss in the car, hell no, there was something far more viable in this one. 

 

                “Good.” Sebastian barely breathed the reply as he dragged his newly freed hand down the other’s chest. It ghosted across the pale skin and brushed along his ribs. The fingers tugged on his hair and he licked at Jim’s lips. He slowed down just a tad. He didn’t know how far the other wanted to go… and he didn’t know really how far he was allowed to go either. Then again… hadn’t he started it? The other hand went up and cupped the back of James’ head. Sebastian decided to put more love into the kiss than just snarling need. His eyes shut tight and he kissed him with passion only James Moriarty had seen.

  
                Soft sighs slipped from his lips as goose bumps left a trail behind where the calloused fingers caressed. It'd been far too long since he'd felt the oddly gentle touch from rough fingers in such a familiar fashion. It was to his surprise, though, that the kiss slowed. Several moments passed where James struggled to follow before sliding back into the rhythm of it. James shuddered at the evocations that surfaced. Arms slipped tighter around the other, his hold growing fiercer in a possessive manner. Despite the nature of the kiss that went against everything he was, James wanted it more. It was foreign. Different. Interesting. Needed. Pressing himself into the other, he felt his heart speed up even as his lips slowed down to mimic Sebastian's own.

  
                Sebastian lightly pushed the other’s shoulder back, pinning him to the bed but still kissing him. The kiss had gone from roaring flame to a cool splash of water. He lit his tongue flick out and begged for a bit of entrance. When granted he mapped the wet cavern with more care than any before. The sniper no longer cared if he’d found another. All he wanted was to be with James again. The towel fell away and he retreated for a moment before muttering, “Sod it.” And going right back to the kiss. His body gained chills as well when Jim brushed a hand over his back. It was good to know he still caused a reaction as he took a split second to glance downward.

 

                He fell back with very little resistance, pressing up into the other when Sebastian leant over him. When petition for entrance, there wasn't a moment of hesitancy. Lips parted enough to let the wet muscle slide through before spreading wider with the other's careful and talented movements. He'd been starved of this for damn-too long both mind and body evidenced as eager for the intimacy of the moment as Sebastian seemed to be. Playing personal-assassin had left little to no time for anything sexual. Even if it had, James wasn't sure that he could bring himself to do something like that. The few times that he'd been forced to flirt and tease with a victim, he'd almost slipped out the sniper's name more than once. A hoarse chuckle eased past his lips despite the separation, amusement found in the other's reaction. "Oh, why so shy?" he pouted, but the expression was kissed away too soon to be harped on. Long fingers skated about the other's back, careful not to run his unruly nails against the sensitive flesh of the scarring. Finger pads, as smooth and knowing as they always had been, skated about the lining of the scar before slipping forward onto marred flesh, tracing the pattern he knew from memory. 

 

                Sebastian hissed softly as he felt fingertips brush into his scar. It still pained him though it had been a long time since his lighter’s flame had washed over him. There was a brief flash of memory of him hanging from his wrists and Hickery pouring the vodka down his back then Clara flicking the lighter. The flames went up his back. He tensed underneath his touch and went back to the kiss. That felt better than the memories. Much better. He brought his rough hands downward over the other’s chest, feeling each rib underneath the pale flesh. Sebastian counted them in his mind, biting gently on James’ lower lip. Finger tips skimming across his collarbone went down to go across the pink buds of the other’s chest. Movements happened in slow movements, like he felt if he went too fast the moment would be gone and he’d never get the chance again. “I’ve always been shy around you.” Sebastian whispered to him between kisses, “Even after you tied me to the bed the last time we were together.”

  
                Head back against the flat of the mattress, a deep sound rumbled up from his throat at the feel of weather-beaten hands against his chest. Pressing up into the other's lips, he allowed his teeth to tear at the other's mouth. He arched up into his hands, shivering at the reverent touch on his skin. Memorizing was more or less what the pair of them were doing--refreshing their minds of the things that had once been and, so help him, what would be, again. A low moan slipped from his lips as he pulled back to speak. "Have you, now?" He chuckled, tone a breathless. "But didn't I make that worth it?" His tone was teasing, despite the shivers that wracked his body at the mouth against a more sensitive area. Long fingers carded through the hair encouragingly, loving the feeling in general. 

                Lips moved down and he sucked on the man’s Adam’s apple gently, nibbling on the lump of the throat with a small smile. Hands still curved their warm trails. Outside it started to rain a little harder than before. Rain was way too sporadic here for his taste… but for now he would occupy himself with more interesting ideas. Sebastian smiled at the moan he’d dragged out of the other. He hadn’t heard that in quite some time and immediately wanted to hear it again. The sniper licks his neck, still biting softly, “And I believe I made it just as worth it to break my shy streak…” He pulled back a moment to rake his eyes over the other. Fingers in his hair didn’t leave and Sebastian let out a low growl, “Wanna break it again?”  

  
                The rain was a gorgeous sound. It reminded him of home, both of his homes, in fact. Dublin and London had both been known for their sporadic rainfall and, living in a place with it, again, was going to help him settle down without problem. Sebastian there certainly helped him to settle. His movements hardly hurt, either. The lips on his throat earned another shiver and a savoury moan, arching up into the man above him. "Oh, god, yes," he chuckled, pulling at his hair teasingly. "I remember that far too well. Come now, I'm certainly willing to play, if you are, my dear."   
  
                Pulling on his hair was one of the things to make him turn on. He loved it. Sebastian went back down to ravage the other’s lips. “Always.” His growl was sexily low, dangerous sounding. Just like their relationship. His hands took him be the waist, kissing a trail of fire going downward. His tongue flicked out, going across James’ bellybutton. He breathed a cool breath of air on his stomach, licking downward still.  Hands kept his hips still Sebastian grinned evilly at him. “Wonder if you wouldn’t mind…” Even farther he went and then the pink muscle darted out to lick the man’s cock. “….having a tiger…” Lips brushed against it, “…play with you…”

                A shudder of arousal wormed down his body, loving when Sebastian's voice dropped to that deep, guttural sound. On many an occasion he'd claimed that noise for himself and it was a refreshing feeling to hear that, again. It was his noise, a sound that his tiger made for him alone. God, he loved it. James didn't bother to quiet himself, taking full pleasure out of the other's work on him. Maybe another night, he'd worry more about composure and decorum, but not that night. And certainly not when Sebastian was being so forward and lively. A loud noise broke loose, his fingers taking a firmer hold on the blond's hair. "Not at all, pet, go on.. Daddy's waiting..."

                A moan escaped his lips as his hair was pulled. God, it was like a pull string to his nether regions. Mouth going along the other’s member, he licked the head. Just playing for now. His left hand came down to stroke while his right flattened out on the other’s stomach. To hold him there because soon he’d need it. Sebastian licked his kiss swollen lips before wrapping them around the head. It only needed a sharp suck from him to earn another gasp, he pulled back licking down the side before taking him deeper this time into his throat. It had been a while, even though he was gifted without a gag reflex, he took it slow. Sebastian bobbed his head, sucking as he went and trailing teeth lightly.

                Sebastian seemed to remember everything, James gave him credit it for that. It was hot and made James tingle, want building a tight knot in the base of his stomach. His grip tightened and loosened in his sniper's hair with every skilled move or taunting lack of one. Heart rate picking up along with his pulse, James tried to swallow past the gasp in his throat. The hand on his stomach, the hand on his length, and the hot mouth on it, too, made it all too hard to keep mind. It only got worse (read as: better) when he pressed down on it, enveloping it with bruised lips and sharp teeth. When the other started moving, he fisted his hands, voice strangled as he tried to keep both quiet and calm. Well, as calm as was feasibly possible. 

                There would be none of that on his watch. Sebastian could feel the other trying to downplay his pleasure. To try to keep the cold and calm look and he wasn’t going to have it. Not a chance. They hadn’t been together in god knew how long and he wasn’t just going to sit there and pretend not to have his brain go dead from it. Evil took hold of the sniper and he took him deep in his throat, hands going to the inside of the man’s thighs. He knew what places to hit. Finger tips massaged the base of James’ cock and he moaned, sending vibrations through the other. He was going to make his scream by the end of the night- maybe even multiple times- if it was the last thing he ever did. The hand working on his base left to massage the balls resting underneath while the other hand scratched down his entire thigh. He was quick with his next actions. Sebastian released him for a moment, used the hand scratching four claw marks down James’ thigh to hold the cock before licking straight up from his balls to the tip of the organ. He felt the other tense and used his canine to stimulate the urethra opening. Sebastian held the base firmly, now he wouldn’t come undone- not yet. The next second he blew cold air on the tip then swallowed him once more. Blazing blue eyes locked upward.

                "Fuck!" The sudden advance of dual pain and pleasure lured out what Sebastian wanted. A gasp and a cry broke out, grip tightening further. If there was anything that could turn James on, it was pain. Sadism and masochism had always been his--he'd called it--kryptonite. He loved pain, whether it was causing it or receiving it. Albeit, receiving it had been so rare from anyone before his sniper. It was hard to convince courage from partners who were afraid of him. Sebastian wasn't afraid though. That had been obvious from the beginning. He'd been different and it would have been a lie to say that hadn't turned James on from the start. Hips rocked generously with the other's movements, pants and moans alternated as he lost what control he'd had. Knees pushed against Sebastian's hold before fighting to stay where they were. A growl of sorts bubbled up in his chest, tensing at the pain of nails against sensitive flesh coupled with the blinding pleasure of being fondled like that. Another cry bursted forth, James pulling hard at the other's hair as James felt himself pitch towards the edge, only to be held back against his own will. He writhed a bit, a snarl on his lips. "Fucking bastard..." 

                If his mouth hadn’t been occupied he would have smirked at him. But thankfully he could do that with a mere look from below. “Like that?” He cocked his head to the side while letting the cock slid in and out of his throat repeatedly. His teeth trailed it as he swallowed it every time it came back. His tongue ran the underside of it as he went. Sebastian knew how to make his boss scream. Claw like nails went down James’ chest, pinning him at the same time with a feral growl that came from his own chest. He was tempted- very tempted- to bite. The other hand finally let go, but did the same roaring red lines of flame down the other thigh. He couldn’t let them not match now could he? Elbows moved to pin his knees. There wasn’t much weight he could use to his advantage, but he knew how to turn the table for him. His own cock was pressed hard into the chests beneath him as he sucked James’ all the way down his throat. Casting an innocent look upward as the sound of James’ cursing, he suddenly swallowed hard, moaning at the same time.

                Another growl surfaced, a nails biting into the heel of his own hand the tighter that he gripped the other's hair. Hips jumped upwards against Sebastian's hands, finding it nearly impossible to keep them down, despite Sebastian's lack of a gag reflex. Each brush of Sebastian's teeth followed by the stroking of his tongue brought James far closer than he was sure that he wanted to be. It was hot, it was wonderful, and the added salacious feeling of nails being dragged down flesh earned Sebastian sounds that James hadn't uttered in years. A part of him felt like he was back in England, everything the way that it should have been and the way that it used to be. When he came, it was certainly more than he'd had in awhile. Hips fought against the hold that Sebastian posed, thrusting up as much as they could. A cry broke over the pouring sound of rain, voice feral and ridden with his despised accent as it curled around the harsh consonants and softer vowels of Sebastian's name--or something similar to it. It felt like hours before James came back down on the bed, soaked in sweat and shaking a bit, even if it was only a few seconds. Despite that, though, it was the best orgasm he'd had in far too long.   
  
                He let the organ slip out of his mouth, a little cum dripped from his lips as he licked them slowly. His eyes were bright and he moved in slow motion as he crawled up toward him. Kisses were placed along his thighs on the scratch marks he’d made. Sebastian’s smirk was telling that he enjoyed it just as much as the other. He held himself up above the other, “Tired already, kitten?” He asked, his smirk showing his teeth behind twisted lips. Down below his own cock was still achingly hard. A tongue darted out and licked his lips again.

                It took awhile, but the world was slowly starting to fade back into focus. He could hear his own breathing in his ears, ragged and uneven. Up until then, he had forgotten how much such an act could take out of a man. James couldn't complain, though, it wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed it or that it wasn't the best thing he'd had in over three years. Black eyes focused on the ceiling were met with a pair of blue ones as a smug expression drew into view. He chuckled at his question, rolling his eyes as he propped himself up with one elbow. "Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, tone breathy despite his firm effort to fight against it. "I've got a lot more left in me, tiger. Ready when you are." Or maybe a few moments more. 

                His lips still pulled back into a more cunning smirk. “Teach you to act calm when I give you a blowjob.” This time he said it aloud, nuzzling the others’ neck. He could ignore the throbbing down below until James’ caught his breath. A long tongue came out to lick whatever specs of cum off of his lips that were left like cat did after a good meal. A hand went up to slowly ghost it’s way down from the man’s collar bone to his naval. “My question is… when you are ready again that is… do you want to ride your tiger…” His fingers circled the other’s belly button before coming back to cup the other’s face as he kissed him again, “or be pounded into the bedframe.” Sebastian sounded calm, collected and there was still the low, sexy growl underneath his voice.

                James broke out laughing, the sound a little fuller than it had been before. "You're a real something, you know that?" Languorous fingers brushed against the other's cheek when Sebastian was kind enough to be gentle and pay mind to calming him. It was warm and familiar, setting his already leisured mind at ease. When Sebastian spoke, it took a few moments for James to register it, holed up somewhere in his own mind, lulled there by the reverence of his lover's movements. Easy laughter surfaced, shivering at his growl, James curled his arms above his head, taking pleasure in the small pops and cracks that sounded. An arm behind his head, he made a fuss of tossing the ideas about, liking how both of them sounded. He reached his free hand down, long fingers twisting above the wound there. "For your sake, tiger, perhaps it's best to have you doing as minimal work as possible." A sinuous smile pooled at his lips, James pushing himself up a bit to allow his own lips to meet Sebastian's. "I'd love to return the favour." 

                “I do know that.” He nuzzled him gently again, placing soft kisses on his flesh. “And I know you love it too.” His movements stayed tender against the other. Soft lips went across his skin carefully and he breathed cool air on the scratches he’d made, kissing them. The hand that was supporting him was rubbing small circles into his hip. He liked the sound of James’ laughter; he wanted him to do that more often and silently vowed to make him do that more. Yes, they wouldn’t just quit their lives and become domesticated boyfriends… but he could squeeze making the other genuinely laugh in there. Sebastian chuckled at the look of thoughtfulness on his face as he mulled the two ideas over in his head. James’ hand was cold as it brushed down his chest to pause above his knife wound. The sniper shrugged, “I would say it is nothing but it might ruin the mood if I start bleeding in the middle of sex.” He chuckled lightly, grunting as he shifted the lower half of his body. Sebastian kissed him back, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Hrm… Up to you.”

                "Unfortunately." Despite the dramatic sigh, the man was smiling. Really, that was the case. He'd even come to a realisation that his antics or how he was in bed might not have been the only things that he loved when it came to Sebastian. Saying and meaning it had always been two different things for the criminal. "Well, I don't mind the bleeding so much as long as I'm the one who causes it. That's a little more or less unexpected and unwanted." The smirk deepened, James gently easing the sniper onto his back. "Up to me? Oh, well, isn't that sweet of you?" James straddled the man's hips, giving himself a few minutes to take in the man beneath him, again. Long fingers snaked down the expanse of chest, twisting and lifting to accommodate the curves and dips of his body. Each and every rib could easily be accounted for in addition to the grooves in the bones. Attractive, certainly, but he missed how his tiger used to look. It was a short-lived loss, though, ducking down to kiss the sniper. Nails joined the exploration, careful to avoid certain areas and to be gentle in others. Where it was a little sturdier, however, he allowed them to bore down a bit more, enough to mark, but not to trail blood. Another day. One hand shot back up, sliding into the mass of blond hair, again. 

                “Unfortunately? I would think I would be easy to love.” Sebastian lowered his lashes at him, a grin still glued into place. When the other pushed him onto his back his hands immediately found the other’s hips. He was perfect- even when bruised and thin like he was. Blue irises raked over the body on top of his. “Me, not sweet? Never.” The sniper watched James trail his fingers and sometimes nails down his chest, over his ribs and sometimes his shoulder blades. He was enthralled with the other, eyes for nothing else in the room or in the world. His gaze could have been conceived as loving. Sebastian held his breath as the other found a bundle of scars and then a tight batch of nerves right afterward. The hand in his hair made his eyes widened just a fraction of an inch and he licked his lips. Damn James knew how to make him hot and bothered.

                The criminal laughed, enjoying the other's expression. "Oh, come now, you didn't think you were the only one who remembered the other's fixes?" James winked, thumb pressing continuous circles into the same spot before dragging nails up then back down his skin. If anything, his tiger certainly had a pretty purr and James missed hearing it. Fingers kneaded against the weathered flesh, dotting along his favourite scar that the sniper earned himself as Moriarty's new boy-toy. James hardly thought it would be a permanent position when he'd gifted it to him. Mouth as eager to play found a spot against the sniper's neck, biting down hard before forming a noticeable mark on the tanned flesh. Dropping away the hand in his hair, James let his hand dip down over the edge, rummaging through the bag that was down by the bed. He'd gotten a bit hopeful a few days prior and had bought it on a whim, sure as hell not imagining that the bottle of lube would actually get put to use. A sinister smile on his face, he weaved the travel-size container between his fingers. "Would you like the honours or shall I?" Really, there wasn't a bad answer to this--he'd get to taunt Sebastian either way.

                “I’d be disappointed if it were.” He swallowed thickly at the thought of the other riding him. Hands pressed into the batch of nerves beneath his seventh rib and he groaned softly. Loving the feel. Sebastian nails went down James’ back at the bite to his neck and he wiggled underneath him. At first he was confused at where the small was going until he brandished a small tube of lube. A tongue once again darted out and he licked him lips hard. The bottle flipped through his fingers, being turned and played with. It took him a moment to get his brain functioning again, “Er… Y-You?” He wanted to slap himself for the momentary attack of shyness and blushed.

                Black eyes watched the other's expression as he toyed with the bottle, thoroughly pleased with what he saw. "Just precious," he chuckled, tone derisive as he pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. James sat back up, again, snapping the bottle open. He eased the substance over his fingers, shifting atop of Sebastian as he did so. Not stopping until the fingers of his dominant hands were coated in the matter. His right hand pressed into the mattress, using it as a stabilizer. Gaze focused on the man beneath him's shoulder, James took a deep breath through his nose. "See how this works, again, eh?" A confident smirk found its way onto his face as he forced himself to relax before pushing a finger past the barrier and into his own entrance. The first sound to leave was a hiss, James' knees pressing into the other's legs as his body frenzied to react. 

                “Me?” He asked softly, breath coming a little faster at the hot lips on his throat. The lid came right open with a click and he swallowed hard. His eyes watched the clear gel come out of the tube and slowly ooze down his fingers. Sebastian shifted over allowing him to get a better support and watched him with now with narrowed eyes of pleasure. “Nah, I just like watching you like this…” The low growl had returned and his fingertips found his chest again. Sebastian moved his hands down and touched James’ member gently, just playing for now as he prepared himself.  “Hrm… just like that baby…” The smirked returned along with this bravery in bed.

                Pleasure was a vaguely recognizable feeling in the back of his mind. The scabrous hand on him was enough to keep him calm as his body relaxed. Long fingers kneaded the duet beside Sebastian's head for several long minutes. As the muscles in his rear loosened, James started to move his hand. Not a sound passed his lips, jaw locked and teeth clenched together against the uncomfortable feeling. Once it worked along with ease, James added a second, paying more mind to the hand on his length than the fingers in his arse. Black eyes eased open, catching light of the other's smug expression. "Bastard..." he managed out through clenched teeth. 

                Sebastian kept his gaze locked upward with lips twisted. “That I am… and you like it.” He growled the last part up to him, a hand fisting around the other’s cock. Pumping his hand slowly he watched the other prepare even more. By the time the third finger was added, James’ dick had come back to life in his hands and was straining in his grip. “You like that?” His whisper was barely heard he leaned upward to place gentle kisses across Jim’s tight jawline. “Maybe if you relax a little it’ll be easier…” Again, his words hadn’t changed an octave. Teeth brushed his skin slightly as his other free hand felt James’ heart rate speed up.

                James didn't bother to reply to that--they both knew that he was right. Their relationship wouldn't be half as fun, functional, or safe if Sebastian wasn't the kind of bloke to talk back or fight against James' words. It was what had drawn James to him, that he was so shockingly different than every other hired gun that he'd owned. They'd all been afraid of him, but he'd rarely seen a time (or even seen one) where Sebastian was afraid of him. Either he was brave or stupid. Most likely both. Which made him just as stupid for finding it so damn attractive. His fingers continued to work at his entrance, reminding his muscles what it was like to be pried open, again. Sebastian's hand on him was certainly helping. Pleasure pushed him along, fingers moving faster as desperation reared its ugly head. His body was starting to catch up with his mind, realizing what this toying and touching all meant. "What do you think?" he asked back hoarsely. His third finger slipped in, the pain returning for all of a second. Adjusting, his fingers twisted against something he hadn't touched save for those rare, lusty nights. A cry seized past his lips, his jerking forward before pressing back, body involuntarily relaxed against his own touch. 

                It was like having their first time all over again. The play, the words, the husky voices, the underlining need that drove them both. Sebastian was once a very straight male until James’ had come along. He’d never met another like him and he was willing after a year or so to take their relationship to something other than lustful stares and pulling a trigger to relieve some  of the pent up aggression. They’d been at a gun range of all things, Sebastian coming up behind him to help his aim. At the time he’d been amazed at how well the other fit against him and he aimed James’ gun to help him fire. Of course, even with his help James’ had been a suck shot. But it had led to something else that he was glad they’d broken into the place to do instead of while it was working hours. The hand that felt the other’s pounding heart beat lowered to stroke the inside of his inner thighs until his hands cupped James’ scrotum and massaged it. Blazing eyes kept his gaze locked on the other’s expression and kissed him at each little moan and cry. The hand that had been fondling the other’s member felt up James’ spine now after taking a slow caress around his waist to come around. He found a knot on his lower back and massaged that as well until it was gone, still moving upward until it was on the back of James’ neck. “I think you like it… and I wanna play with the real thing instead of those fingers… Hrm?”

  
                At that moment, not a single thing hurt and the whole experience was just pleasure. Between the fingers poised against his prostate in addition to Sebastian's brilliant fingers doing things that it shouldn't have been legal for, James was almost content to stay like that. Sebastian seemed rather content with the situation, too, if the sparse kisses said a thing. His free hand raised up to clamp in the blond's hair, weight pressed against the other's chest instead. Lips pressed together in a frenzied kiss, moans and words of adulation slipping out between breaths as Sebastian kept his hands going. "Do you really?" he panted out, smirking a little at that. "What if I'm... rather content with this? I could finish myself off purely like this, you know." James moaned, as if to prove the point to the other. "Wouldn't be the first. I'm sure that you wouldn't mind." James purred, rolling his hips towards Sebastian's cock.  
  
                Sebastian licked his lips in need and ran a tongue along James’ neck vein. He grinned at the other, reaching down to grab handfuls of the other’s arse cheeks. A feral grin came across his features as he left hicky marks across the pale skin. The sounds coming out of the other were making him harder than ever. Kisses were biting and harsh but soft and loving at the same time. A hand in his hair sent a hiss of pleasure past bared teeth and he snarled, “I can’t see how that is satisfying when you could have your tiger instead…” There was another hiss that mixed with James’ moan. “Or are you scared to ride the beast…” He whispered the last part in his ear, biting down on his neck before blowing cool air over the puncture wounds.

                Three years and Sebastian really hadn't lost any of his ability. It was both frightening while being extremely arousing--like most things were with them. Rough, passionate, painful, and, yet, some of the most enrapturing pleasure that James was sure that he'd felt in months, James wasn't quite sure that there was necessarily a reason to stop. The hiss from Sebastian brought him back to clear conscience, however, if even for a few moments. He stiffened at the mention of fear, something flashing behind his black eyes. A bay cracked past his lips, arching into the bite instinctively, Lifting his head to peer at the other, a disparaging smile on his lips, the look never fading from his eyes as that hum of pain fuelled his arousal. Fingers brought out after a moment, regretful as it were, James was silent as he reached for the bottle. Slicking up his hand for a second time, he wrapped this one around Sebastian's length. Long fingers squeezed firmly, making quick work of his boyfriend's dick. "Why should I fear the beast?" he spoke, finally, voice low and threatening. "I own him."   
  
                “Hng!” Was the only thing that managed to escape Sebastian’s kiss swollen lips. He moaned softly at the tight fingers around him again. How he’d managed to hold in this long was something in itself. His eyes looked up into James’ to see that he’d woken a challenge and answered with a smirk, panting slightly. The man could look smug even when he was on the edge of coming undone. “Even when someone owns a furious beast they should be wary.” Sebastian gasped as James’ hand went all the way up and down his cock, making it completely hard and standing at attention. “It may bite back…” The last part was pushed and he mewled a little. It felt good, especially when his body was singing with arousal. Having not seen another naked- let alone his boyfriend naked- made his almost like his first time all over again. Well… minus the gun, blood and handcuffs.

                The smirk was as infuriating as it was incredibly erotic. James laughed quietly in spite of himself, taking pleasure in the assassin's noise of surprise. He hadn't quite expected that, obviously, not that James would have wanted him to. He listened to him talk, hand slowly down as Sebastian tried to reason why James should be terrified. His argument, however, crumbled when James distinctly heard a note of want flicker in his growling voice. Lips pressed to the tip for a moment before James withdrew his hand. "I don't think my tiger's in any position to bite," he chastised. Swiping his hands across the duvet, reminding himself that they could clean up later, he knelt before the over, hovering above the sniper's length. Long fingers gripped to broadened shoulders, nail biting down teasingly. "Ready?" he asked, smirking himself, trying to ignore the burning desire flickering somewhere below his belt.  
  
                He crashed his lips into James’ and let out a snarl of arousal, “God damn you’re sexy.” Sebastian bit at his lips, and braced the other’s hips as he eased down on his cock. There was gasp of both pain and pleasure as he slid slowly inside the other. How long had it been honestly since he’d been with someone else. “Only if the master wants him to bite…” He moaned and let the other adjust before going into him more. The nails into his shoulders kept him in reality now he didn’t start thrusting immediately. They guided him when to ease in and out or to hold still. “Mhm..” Sebastian gasped and kneaded at the other’s hip bones; teeth making marks on his own lips.   
  
                "Would I be me if I wasn't?" he mumbled against the other's lips before returning the frenzied kiss. The hands on his hips grounded him back to what he was supposed to be doing. James caught a deep breath through his nose, a hand departing from Sebastian's shoulder to cup over Sebastian's hand whilst the other caught a firmer hold on his shoulder. Another deep breath and James allowed himself to slide down. Breathless laughter escaped in the place of the pained moan that wanted to break free. His body took longer to adjust than was their usual (granted, it'd been years since they'd been together), but it finally seized up enough so that it didn't feel like his insides were being ripped apart. The hand on Sebastian's shoulder eased up, nails relinquishing from the muscle shoulder. Several more breaths were stolen before James kept moving. The system continued on like that for some time--breathe, move, pause, repeat. Finally, James had the other sheathed to full capacity, eyes still shut and his grip just as strong on him. "'member anything?" he teased, the practiced English accent dropping away as it always did when he couldn't be plussed to give a damn. "Ready, yeah?"

                Sebastian gasped hard, “Oh gods yes.” He moaned and felt the smaller man start to move on top of him. His own movements were painfully slow, breaths coming heavy and he didn’t look away from the other. It was like being put together again or being woken up. The movements were hot, passionate, loving, and so sinfully good. Sebastian called out the other’s name and swore at the feeling. Their primal dance between tongues was met with flesh against flesh and screams of pleasure. The other’s heat wrapped around him and the windows even eventually fogged. Lightning struck and Sebastian wrapped a strong arm around the other’s waist, kissing his neck as they moved against each other.

                If there was anything that could get James going, it was hearing the raw need in his lover's voice. A grin plucked at his lips as he started to ease along, movements still hesitant, but bolder than they'd been a moment before. His breaths were calculated, moving as steadily as he could before his body began to pick up on the rhythm. It was musical, really, playing out like some lewd symphony. Moan for moan and off-guard gasp for heady growl, the pair of them fed off of each other in a way that made James' head spin. Speed added into the equation, noises fell all too willingly from his lips. His grip tightened, mind flickering back into use, again. A smile twisted broadly at his lips, Sebastian's ministrations a welcomed feeling. Shifting back and forth against Sebastian's length, James took a little more time trying to find the nerves he'd been so capable of finding earlier. Each search brought him fully against the man beneath him before nearly pulling almost all the way out. Frustration began to build in his chest, hips moving faster, impatiently, before their bodies clicked like they had so many times before. James gasped as a sound that was just as much a scream as it was a groan left his lips. 

                Screams, groans and moans were vibrating throughout the room as they rode each other’s emotions. Their motions were like a dance of need and pleasure that caused blue to be against black and vice versa. Sebastian pounded into the other with his teeth on edge listening to the other howl. His hand found the other’s member and he jacked the other off. There was a couple of times when they rolled around on the bed into different positions as well. It was for a long time until they came up from both harsh and loving kisses and backbreaking sex.

                 
                For James, it was just as much about living in memories as it was relishing what was really happening right then. Because there had been a past, it was why it was so good. Yes, it would have been a fucking fantastic first time, but it was made all that much sweeter because this was the hundredth, but the first of a new start. Before, it'd been for sexual pleasure and, yes, it still was, but James had been through just enough hell that there was something quite adhering about the moment. Mind all but deteriorated to nothing more than moans and cries, gasps resurfacing every once in awhile. When it was all said, done, and over with, he wouldn't quite remember all that happened, but it sure as hell felt good. James clung to the other as they tossed about, trying to make sure that the positions still worked. It all happened so quickly, though, James seeing a flush of white as he thrusted down against him, words and pure gibberish leaving his lips as he lost it against Sebastian. 

                After a while of screaming, moaning and prostate abusing sex, Sebastian gasped hard feeling his stomach tighten and the blissful release. He put their lips together, sweat mixing between them. They had rolled a lot making a royal mess of the bedroom. The lamp lay broken next to the bed and the headboard was cracked. Both of them were bleeding from love-bites and bruises were starting to become apparent. James came seconds later and they rode the orgasm out together before collapsing onto the now sheet less mattress. Sebastian blinked slowly before laughing softly, noticing that they had literally ripped up a pillow as well. He leaned over and kissed the other’s collarbone gently. Drifting a hand down James’ chest and stomach still not saying a word. Outside the lightning had died down and the rain was very soft against the window. “Love you.” He muttered a while later when their breathing had settled.

                His breathing was hard, a slight wheeze behind it. "Damn" was the only plausible thought that managed to fill his mind. Arm thrown over his eyes, James struggled to reteach himself to breathe. Three years of celibacy (though, he and his hand had become really close) in addition to the same amount of far from good health, James considered it a miracle he was still conscious. Exhausted laughter stumbled from his lips as he pulled his hand away, taking in the room about them. The demolition they'd caused alone was going to put them in trouble with the owner, but it was too beautiful of a sight to think on that for long. Black eyes fell shut as his breathing slowed, opening again at the gentle touch on his skin. A smile on his lips, James was really starting to feel like things were getting back to norms. He pulled a grimace, though, pale fingers languidly stroking the sniper's cheek. "I'm not going to... have to relay all that touchy-feely stuff with you... post-sex, now, am I?" There was a teasing light in his smile.  
  
                “No, I know you couldn’t tell me you loved me without having a knife through my gut.” He smiled back, rubbing small circles into the other’s skin. “Just thought I’d let you know from my end.” Sebastian yawned and let out a sigh through his nose. The power was either out or they’d broken the ceiling light as well. “I think we broke everything in the room…” There was a soft chuckle that escaped his lips. “I’m surprised _we_ didn’t break a bone.”

                He laughed quietly, relaxing under his gentle touches. "It's the drama of the moment, you know? Besides, otherwise, you might actually remember I said it," joked the criminal, tugging at a strand of the blond's hair. James' eyes followed Sebastian's, laughing as he himself inspected the state of the room. Thin shoulders shook, an uncouth snort accompanying it. "Yeah, well, it's been awhile. I think we're allowed to be a bit wild," he defended idly, slowly moving to sit up. "Speaking of which, lay down, won't you?" Easing along, and trying to ignore the brutal pain rippling up his spine, James picked up the gauze that Sebastian had been working with earlier. 


	9. Chapter 9

“Drama? I didn’t think it was that bad. I did try to make it a little bit more interesting on the rescue.” He shook his head, shutting his eyes slowly. “I remember it and I think I’ll have to get a recording of the next time you say it.” Sebastian chuckled and felt himself being moved and his eyes open again, “Why? Oh.” Thankfully he wasn’t bleeding but they had been a bit rough. He laid still and moved when the other asked. When they finished the sniper slid a hand down the other’s arm, “Come ‘er.” He muttered.  
  
                James rolled his eyes, working the bandaging across his hands before fixing it about the sniper's waist. "Interesting? Hell, you had the butt of a blade sticking from your damned stomach--I'd have to be blind, deaf, and mentally incapacitated to call that boring. Granted, don't give me a repeat or I might just have a heart attack." Rolling his eyes, he wound it about Sebastian. Putting it at tight as he could, but still at a point that it wasn't too terribly uncomfortable. "Good luck with that," he mumbled, tucking the ends into the bind. "I don't like to say those kinds of things when it can be documented." He rewarded the man with a smile, tossing what remained of the bandaging aside before looking to him. Laughter escaped as James pressed a kiss to his lips, leaning down against him.   
  
                “I promise I won’t get into too much trouble.” He muttered shifting as the other finished.  Sebastian smiled into the kiss and had his hand move up the other’s curves until he reached the spot her was looking for. Fingers gently kneaded into James’ back where he had heard it pop earlier. “Well for what it’s worth, you have the real thing to assure you that I have ‘affection’ for you.” He whispered pulling back from the other’s lips. “Need anything bandaged?”

                The criminal laughed softly, rolling his eyes at Sebastian's words. "Don't make promises that you can't keep. Especially given our line of work. Not only is it expected, it's almost a shock if it doesn't happen." The confident smile slowly dropped away, expression slack as his fingers worked against the sensitive spot. A low groan of pleasure escaped, quite relaxed by his lover's ministrations. "I'm quite convinced of that," he mumbled, tone a bit distracted, shaking his head when asked if his healing wounds needed tending to.  
                 
                “You should know by now that I don’t make promises I know I can’t keep.” He muttered kissing the top of the other’s head as James’ eased down to lay on the uninjured part of his torso. The larger kept up his gentle sweeping movements of his hands, pushing and stroking the spots he knew hurt if James’ moved too quickly or too much.  He whispered to him, “You better be convinced after that stunt. Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Sebastian grazed his lips over the top of his head. Silently he breathed in his scent that mixed with his so well.  
  
                Warm, nimble fingers coaxed James into a state of ease, a warm smile working its way onto his lips. To save argument, James wouldn't try to deny Sebastian's statement, even if he found it a bit far-fetched. He did adore and love Sebastian dearly, he'd said so himself already, but there were promises Sebastian couldn't keep. James knew it if only because it involved him. That didn't mean that the words meant any less to him, however. "You too," he echoed, fingers brushing the man's sides in a gentle fashion as he curled against the broad chest. "And you sure as hell better be here." His tone was tired, the man drifting off far too quickly for his own liking.   
  
                Sebastian drifted off the sleep eventually. Arms wrapped around the other and his head tilted back. It was such a calming position- the tension was out of the air and it just felt… more normal perhaps. The nightmares weren’t all that bad for once and in his sleep he managed to keep in the same position. Not stirring James’ from his sleep. Morning came too soon the next day and he slowly opened his eyes. It was bright and the light shined in since they’d ripped part of the curtain last night. Sebastian surveyed the room again remembering their activities the night before and couldn’t hold back the smile that crept up on his face. What could he say? James knew how to unleash the beast.  
  
                Rain continued on and off for the duration of the evening, but James slept straight through it. So warm and tired and comfortable against his sniper's chest, it might have been the best sleep he'd had in months. When he did awake the next morning, he was vaguely aware of light trying to seep through his eyelids and a gentle drumming sound in his own ear. Curling in on himself a bit, James fought back against the light before giving in and opening them. Bit by bit, the room began to fade into focus from the shredded sheets to the ripped curtains to the broken lamp to the sniper laid out beneath him. Surprised, but far from disappointed, James stretched himself out a bit before settling against him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd have said the place was ransacked," he drawled, a smirk on his lips.   
  
                “Well when the manager asks, we’ll tell him that.” Sebastian hummed from beside him. He was sprawled over most of the bed, one leg hanging off the bed and one arm on the nightstand. “What do you want to do today? Rob banks or kill people?” He joked, tempted to just grab the man and roll back over. It was too early in the morning; hell, it was too early to get out of bed with the other right there next to him. Yawning behind his hand he sat up as well, pulling his limbs back onto the bed.  
  
                "Not sure he'll believe it, if he was in the building for what was happening last night." James ruffled Sebastian's hair, the quiescence of contentment. A little sore, definitely, but it wasn't anything that was too unbearable. Compared to the pains he'd been introduced to, it was almost pleasant. He shifted about, again, stretching and rolling his shoulders before easing himself to sit up. "You sure know how to tempt a bloke," he teased, shooting him a smile. "I was thinking something a little less in-your-face whilst we're under the radar. Expanding our wardrobes to more than lived-in denims and shirts might be a good step forward."  
  
                “Hrm… If he or anyone else was in the building last night we’re going to have an awful amount of complaints against us.” Sebastian made an incredibly cute gesture for someone who killed people for a living by nuzzling the others hand. The taller of the two came toward him, kissing the back of James’ neck and down to his shoulder.  “That would be nice, but I see your point.” With one last soft kiss on a bite mark he’d placed on the other’s shoulder, he turned to get up- completely nude. Other times he’d tried to be modest about it and now he just didn’t give a damn. “We’ve got enough cash to get me a pair of jeans and a shirt. You a suit as well. I’m still wondering if there is a way I can go back to the cruise ship and get my damn rifle back. The case was expensive to make.”  
  
                His head lolled to the side, opening his throat and shoulder to Sebastian's gentle ministrations. It felt so weird that his tiger was being so affectionate with him. Weird, yes, but surely missed. Long fingers reached behind, James absently reaching to touch the sniper. "Ah, well, you know that I hate staying in a place that isn't my own for too long. Besides, I'm sure there are far more hotel rooms to destroy about the area," he teased, arms above his head as he stretched himself out. A low groan of pleasure sounded, body starting to wake up, again. James managed to his feet, shuffling off towards the loo to wash up. "Not a suit, just yet," he mumbled, turning the sink on before grabbing a clean towel. "And I wouldn't suggest that, tiger. There's too much of a chance of being spotted, especially given what happened to that ship."  
  
                Sebastian kissed the hand that ventured behind to touch him. He playfully bit it, not hard enough to leave a mark on the skin. “True but we’ll find a place soon enough for us. There are plenty of rooms all around this city. They’ll call us the wrecking balls.” He smirked at the name slightly shaking his head.  The taller looked up at him with an almost visible question mark over his head. “No suit? Are you feverish?” The words ‘not a suit’ coming out of the other’s mouth were like some strange alternate reality situation. Sebastian stretched and heard his shoulders popped repeatedly. “I know, I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I wonder what happened to the rest of the people on that ship anyway…” He trailed off thinking about the man he’d met at the bar. Was he one of the attackers or had he just been there by chance? More than likely it was the first option but… He shook his head, it wasn’t his problem.  
  
                A place for us. If that didn't make James internally doey-eyed--not that he would ever own up to something so base--he didn't know what would. The slight smile that tugged at his lips was hard to suppress. "I think I could live with that name," he assured, wetting the cloth before starting to wash his torso and legs off, shower put off for the time being. "Don't give yourself a heart-attack, tiger," he assured, glancing to Sebastian in the reflection of the mirror with the same smirk. "Daddy just wants to be able to continue to wear whatever clothes he buys. If I'm measured for a suit, I won't fit in it in a couple of months. Even I'm a little too skinny for my own taste." Wasn't that a first? "Same reason you're not getting one, too, yet." Whether or not Sebastian liked the suit had never been his own concern. There was no denying that Sebastian looked far too ravishing in fitted, fine material. It'd always been a bit of a weak point for James. Flaunting Sebastian about in one was always a risk, James hardly able to contain himself from his sniper for too long, which always lead to ruined material. "A good number of them are dead, I imagine." James shrugged his shoulders and began to brush his teeth.   
  
                He chuckled lightly at the idea of him having a heart attack. "Please don't make my gravestone out of irony. Survive all of this to die of heart failure..." The thought sounded possible though in their line of work a quiet non-gun involved death was vastly unlikely. Sebastian looked up to see James eyes roaming. "What are you thinking about?" He purred adding a savored 'boss' right afterward. If things went well today he might excuse him to get more... questionable supplies. "More than likely everyone is dead... Not my problem."  
  
                "It'd be a more peaceful way to go, I imagine." James shrugged his shoulders, never having lived through a heart attack. In opposition to the deaths that they were guaranteed and the near-death experiences that they had already had, he was sure he'd rather have undergone a heart attack. Turning about, cleaned up enough to function, a small smile passed his lips as he started to dress. "Reminding myself how good you look in a suit," he chuckled, easing his pants back on. "I didn't say it was your problem, tiger."   
  
                “I suppose, but then again, when has anything ever been peaceful for us.” He actually chuckled at that idea and went to at least clean up the room a little. He swept a few pieces of glass from the lamp into his hand and tossed it into the garbage can. Sebastian could hold back his laughter taking James underwear off the ceiling fan and removing his own from the blinds on the window.  “Good, because I know I look sexy.” He smiled back at him, letting his eyes roam but not too far. “It isn’t. Besides I’m needed elsewhere. Even if as a bed warmer.” 

James pressed his shirt to his nose, debating whether or not it would attract much attention to wear it. "There are little pockets of sheer boredom where it borders on peaceful, other than that, never." He smiled, easing it on before taking the pants offered to him with a slight laugh, muttering under his breath about a "good throw." At Sebastian's words, James pulled him forward, seizing his lips for a brief, would-be chaste kiss. "Very, and you don't even get to see your arse," he minded, stepping back to pull his pants on. "And you're more than a bedwarmer. You're still my favorite assassin and employee."   
  
                “Well now that we’ve proven to break everything in our path during intercourse, I’m sure that boring parts of life will be a little less often.” He licked the other’s lips, smirk becoming more and more apparent. “If we weren’t busy I’d try to drag you back into bed. Sebastian kissed down his jaw to his neck. What could he say? He was horny after being abstinent for a few years. The taller groped his backside for a brief moment before going to find his own shirt that was wrapped around the unbroken lamp. “I can imagine it looks as flat as it did before.” Sebastian turned his head a little to look back at him from where he was unwrapping his shirt. More than a bedwarmer? That sounded strange… He nodded his head, “That is why I call you boss… I get shit done and you tell me where to point the gun.”  
  
                James chuckled, pulling his denims on. "Oh, that much I can almost guarantee. Well, if it continues anything like the previous evening," he chuckled, taking in the shared gestures with no small amount of contentment. A low purr surfaced from somewhere in his chest at Sebastian's proposition, not quite deterred by his statement. The noise grew the lower Sebastian's mouth travelled. "Hurry back here and I might just let you," he joked, growling at the sudden grip on his rear. He stumbled back a couple of steps when Sebastian withdrew, attempting to find his own belt in the disaster that they had created. "Can we agree to throw our shit into one centralized location? Would save us a hell of a lot of time." His tone was joking as he eased it about his waist before going in search of his socks. "Could use a little filling out, but I'm not one to talk. And you sure as hell better refer to me as that; lying low or not, I'm still in charge of you, tiger."   
  
                He raised his eyebrow at him and spoke in low German, ‘Shall I get a collar for me?’ Of all the things he could do to James, speaking in a language that he only knew a few words of could annoy him the most. Sebastian was being playful with him for once, offering a wink afterward. When he received a glare from the other he translated. “Do you want me to get a collar and wear it around my neck? I bet I could even get it in tiger print with a leash.” After a moment he shrugged, “I’m sure that if we have another night like that, where our clothing goes flying isn’t going to matter much.”  
  
                Black eyes narrowed at the man, far from amused by the words that he spoke. He understand a handful, enough to have a basic conversation. And ask for both the loo and a good shag. James was the master of languages, being able to speak well over fifteen by the time he graduated uni. However, German had been one that he couldn't wrap his mind around. It wasn't all that much of a problem, James dealing with few German clients without his sniper there to translate. "You know how I hate when you do that," he pouted, pale, bottom lip jutting out in a childish fashion. Though, his tantrum was easily remedied by the meaning of the words. "It would be easier to keep ahold of you, then. And you do look awfully fine in leather." James sighed, pulling his socks on before following with his shoes. "I will give you that one. Seemed to be of the least of my worries last night."   
  
                He smirked at the look on the other’s face when it changed from angry then to a rather cute expression. The other could be brutal but when he played innocent he could pull it off better than a school girl on her first date. “I’ll make sure to get one sometime. You seemed to like handcuffs as well, I think you’d developed a fetish.” Sebastian pulled on his pants and picked his borrowed undershirt from underneath the bed. “Least of both of our worries.” He paused for a moment before looking back at him with his head cocked to the side. “I think we needed it.”

                Getting to his feet, James laughed. "I spent far too much time in them in the past few years to find them bothersome. Besides, it's always fun to be pleasured against your will. There's something sexy as hell to that." Arms above his head, James stretched himself, again, trying to ease his body into a state of relaxation. "I know that I certainly needed it." James giggled, throwing him a broad smile. "Was nice to have that bit of a release. And get back into the swing of something familiar." Stepping over to the small fridge, he shook the container with the soup in it lightly. "Give it a shot before we leave?"  
  
                He grimaced shaking his head to the negative. “I’d… rather not.” At the expression he shook his head, “I’ll try later, promise.” It sounded rehearsed but it was honest. He hadn’t broken a promise to James yet. He really didn’t like the idea of eating right now though and gave a grimace. The meal he’d had the night before was… well filling for him for a day or more. But he doubted he could get away with not eating again for another day or two. Sebastian slipped on his shoes at last and looked over at him. “Lead the way.”

                Putting it back, he shut it with the heel of his foot before crossing the room to pick up the rest of his things. "I'll hold you to that," he said simply, pocking his wallet and the room key. Pulling the tattered jacket over his own shoulders, he gave the room a last look-over before pushing the door open and leading out from there. He checked for a moment that the door was locked before falling in step beside Sebastian. Outside, the weather was warm enough to remind him that it was the dead of summer, but not nearly as blistering as some of the other places were at this time in the year. The shop doors were all open, enticing customers with smells and sales and sights. James managed to keep forging ahead, only giving one very longing look to the Armani store before trudging by.   
  
                Spending a few years in the heat of desserts made Sebastian not even notice the pounding waves from the sun. He yawned behind his hand as he followed the shorter through the streets, only watching for any civilians a little too curious or suits. Sebastian looked in the same direction James had looked and smiled softly. He leaned down to whisper in the other’s ear. “Soon.”  
  
                The criminal sighed heavily, a near regretful look on his face. "Yes, I know. Just seems too far off." Resigned to leave the tailored material to rest where it hung perfectly pressed and displayed, James continued on with one last longing look at the windows. His own clothes felt uncomfortable, more than usual, even. They were old and the material was far from the plush linens and fine wool. Another despondent sigh breezed past his lips as he ducked into a clothing store that looked suitable enough to buy clothes for the "make it work" period. 

                He smirked at the look on the other’s face and sighed softly, “Everything seems far off but none the less we’ll get there.” He muttered following behind James’ into the shop the criminal had chosen. His eyes still flicked around, looking for any sign. The lady running the front check-out cast them both a rather strange look but he passed it off that they more than likely warranted it. “Split up and meet in the middle or…” Sebastian suggested softly, taking a lower voice than his usual since they were in a crowd.

  
                "Divide and conquer," he offered. "Muscular atrophy and starvation aside, we're still two completely different sizes. Besides, the store isn't all that big." James looked about the place, picking up a shirt from one of the racks only to put it back in distaste a moment later. "Find a good bunch of things you like and we'll meet back about this place in fifteen or thirty?" James looked back to him, eyebrow raised as he attempted to make himself enthusiastic about such a shopping experience.   
  
                Sebastian offered a small smile to him and nodded going off in his own direction. “As ordered.” Heading toward the denim pants in particular, he picked his way around the store. The ones he was wearing were a bit small. Even though he was looking through the racks of clothing, thankfully a attributed to being tall, he kept an eye on James just in case. The woman from before had gone about her business in the corner. He picked out a couple pairs of trousers before going to the undergarments then shirts and finally a good strong jacket now he could ditch the current one that smelled like blood and puke. Sebastian glanced around, making sure that James was still around before going toward the checkout and waiting.

                For the Napoleon of Crime, shopping was always a bit of an ordeal. It was why he liked purchasing offline better with stores that he knew well. Obviously, it wasn't a luxury that he could be afforded, at the moment. Up and down and back and forth, James searched through several rows and racks, not too inclined by anything he saw. It was too far from his taste to palate. It was another solid twenty minutes before he found anything that he could consider even remotely pleasing and another five minutes before he found something else. In nearly an hour's time, James finally came back with a suitable assortment. "Ready?" he sighed, still far from pleased with his purchase.   
  
                Sebastian kept his observations to himself as he watched the top of James’ head walk around the clothing racks and different areas. The look on his face was enough to tell him to keep it to himself. If it was one thing about the other, he knew he just simply hated civilian clothing. Though Sebastian had never really wondered why before, the though occurred to him now. He made a note to ask about it later when he was in a better mood- if he got there. He waited on the other without moving. A young man tried to talk to him but he didn’t react to it very much except answering his question about where the jackets were with a pointing finger. The other gave him a soft smile when he finished, “Ready.” 

                Clothes thrown over his arm, he gave him a nod before leading towards the check-out. James practically threw his intended purchase onto the counter of the register before stepping to the side to let Sebastian do the same. Fishing his wallet from his trousers pocket, he handed the card off to the woman as she sorted through the entire stack. At the end of it all, it was a hefty bit of change, but well-worth not having to have the exact same wardrobe every single day. The transaction was quick, James signing down his pseudonym without a bat of an eye. Taking the card back, he shoved it into his wallet and the wallet into his pocket before plucking up a couple of the bags and making a beeline for the door.   
  
                The taller of the two dutifully grabbed the bags left behind and followed him out. He stifled a yawn behind one of his bruised hands. There was almost a smirk that formed when he noticed it was in the shape of the other’s teeth. Sebastian kept pace, wondering if they could stop somewhere and get more cigarettes or perhaps alcohol. Maybe the first one but the second he doubted James’ would agree too. “Where to…” He muttered coming to a stop beside him to let a few cars pass down the street.  
  
                His eyes passed over everything, keeping careful track of everything that stirred or moved around him. Despite the fact that it was a safe and altogether very good place, well... Peace could easily be broken. He'd need a new switchblade. One out of Italy; not exactly the best place to purchase a good, steady blade. He'd feel better with something on him, not that Sebastian wasn't protection enough. He was brilliant, recovering or not. It was just a security blanket, nice to feel against his skin. "Feel sure enough to try and ingest something?" he asked, eyes ahead as he watched the traffic oscillate back and forth across the street. 

                With the thought of food, his stomach immediately twisted angrily from where he stood. “Maybe later…” He muttered just loud enough to be heard over the annoying man yelling in Italian next to him about free samples. Sebastian glared at him and he immediately walked away; he turned back to James. “I will just… later.” The look sent back to him wasn’t a kind one but he understood why. A couple months of starvation couldn’t exactly be fixed with just a bit of food. It dawned on him, he supposed finally dawned on him, that they’d both be rather a mess after this. Attachment issues, trust issues… they’d both be the only people they would at least moderately feel comfortable with. It had been there staring at him in the face the entire time, the idea at least, but he’d never really thought about it. “Actually… I can try.” He decided it was better to try than put it off. Ignoring the pained feeling in his gut he let his upper lip twitch toward James. That was as much as a smile he could manage in public. A hand brushed against the smaller’s arm.  
  
                It wasn't that James didn't understand how human anatomy worked--he'd gone through medical school with borderline perfect marks--but it didn't quite diminish his need to try and, well, fix Sebastian. Yes, the past few years had been terrible to him, too, leaving him in a shape that was not easy to return from, but his body was better at adapting and dealing with limited nutrition, given his past; Sebastian's was not. He'd always been the one to force James to eat before which was why it was manic to have such a role reversal. And to realize that he actually did care. The testament of their physical need for each other had been quite thoroughly manifested the night previous, but emotionally... It burned and hissed in his chest, the feeling unwarranted but despairingly welcomed. James did care what happened to Sebastian. He supposed a part of him always had, but it was nearly impossible to pawn it off, now, as a simple "he's a liability". It came with a certain bitter taste. Granted, he hadn't always been one for what was sweet. His frown didn't change when Sebastian changed his answer. James merely raised an eyebrow, fixing him pointedly with his gaze. The half-smile earned a sigh and a roll of his eyes. Long fingers curled around his sleeve, tugging him further down the street and away from the vendor who'd resumed his cries of specials  "You're far more work than you're worth," he muttered, the corner of his mouth tugged up slightly. James only came to a stop at a smaller, more secluded shop, releasing the other's arm before nodding to the menu on the wall, retrieving his own wallet. "Order."

                Sebastian was a little caught off guard at the tug on his sleeve. He hadn’t expected him to immediately just go for that idea without question. Then again, he had been putting things off for a while, especially in the eating food department. The twitch that came along with a soft curl of his lips happened again at the only half serious utterance. “I know.” He cast the loud mouth vender a venomous look before being grudgingly following James once again. When offered the menu he grimaced at it, it all supposedly looked good but… His stomach let out a growl and he sighed, “You first. My Italians rusty and I don’t want to order horse spleen.” In front of him where the people were both taking orders and cooking, he saw a pot faced their direction. It reflected two black suited men, sweltering in the midday sun, showing a lot of interest in them. Sebastian brushed his hand against James’ hip like a boyfriend would do asking for someone’s hand. It was a signal they used to use back in the day among others. No one suspected that. He moved a little to shield James but carefully acting like he was getting behind him in line. The new clothing would help, not to mention since Germany was so close his blond hair and blue eyes would blend better than James’ Irish features.  “We’ll order two meals… maybe four.” He muttered to him softly. They’d have to be quick if they wanted to run without getting shot. The two suits wouldn’t start anything in public, so it was best to stay where they were.  
  
                He chuckled quietly, looking at him from the side. "As utterly amusing as I'm sure that would be, at least tell me what you would like, then, and I'll order it." A part of him was tempted to tell Sebastian that, no, he himself wasn't hungry, but doing such would no doubt deter the other from eating and he certainly needed it. He just imagined that whatever he himself didn't eat would either end up in the fridge in their hotel room or-- James looked up from the wall menu when he felt a brush against his hip, on edge, though hardly a soul would ever have been able to tell. As Sebastian shifted into place behind him, James did his best to get his view of the surrounding patrons and to place where the threat came from. Now would have been the most brilliant time to be carrying some kind of weapon. Instead of a blade or a gun, he reached back for Sebastian's hand, keeping up with the hoax. His knowledge of morse code, while limited, did span enough to ask basic things Sebastian had taught him. 'How many?' 'Where?' 'Large threat?' 'Run?' 'Stay?' and phrases of the like. James kept with asking 'where', smiling and nodding when he suggested the pair of meals as if nothing were wrong. "Sounds fine."

                He felt the fingers tap rapidly against his skin and he was just as fast. He could feel the other tense slightly right between his shoulder blades. Normally a suit hid that but now, he let himself be the wall between them and the men. ‘Two.’ Was the first then, ‘behind, cross street’. His eyes flickered to the shining surface of the pot again and sized the bulges in their sides since it was a little more than idiotic to shove a pistol in the back of your pants wearing wool in this heat. Sebastian typed like James’ hand was a keyboard the answers to the rest of the questions, ‘Small threat.’ then a very serious and pointed, ‘STAY.’ If they were to run now, either of them could draw and pick one of them off if not both. The only cover was over hot boiling pots of stew or using a group of four year olds on a field trip for living-shields. He was an assassin yes… but shooting little children wasn’t exactly tea time for him. Sebastian yawned behind his other hand, “Don’t worry, I have this meal. Might be better if we just eat here than heading back to the car.” He dropped the hint that others could be listening. ‘Three suits’. He tapped suddenly when he spotted a woman by the only other exit with the four year olds. She had sunglasses and head pointedly turned away from them with a newspaper lowered to hide a gun. ‘Surrounded.’ He tapped that slowly this time. ‘Give Time To Think.’

                The steady, calloused fingers kept James rooted despite the fact that he was practically blind to the danger around them. That was always his biggest anxiety. When he could see, when he could sense the trouble that was around them, everything was alright. He was forced to rely on Sebastian, something that was better than being completely blind. Alright. Staying worked. Staying gave them time to think and James time to figure out where the hell the bastards were. The peaceful look kept up on his face during his entire thought process, stepping a little closer to the counter when summoned by the clerk. He looked back to Sebastian when he spoke, nodding his head. "That sounds just fine." Turning to look at the clerk, James did his best to keep his Irish accent under reign. Certain vowels and consonants cracked, however, his native purr absolutely unmistaken despite his attempts. He tapped out that he understood when Sebastian added to the total count of observers. James could already see that they would need to be getting out of the city soon. At least this one. And he needed to start working on something more permanent and secure. He missed his own security system back in London more than he could say. Nodding to the clerk, he affirmed that was the entirety of their order. 

                He had left the gun in the hotel room thinking they would be getting new weapons. What a stupid and elementary level mistake for one of his caliber. Sebastian squeezed his hand, tapped ‘STAY’ once last time before dropping it, “I forgot something back at the store. I’ll be right back.” The taller caught the mild look of alarm from the other as the cook continued making their food and Sebastian turned to get out of the line. The woman put down the newspaper and one of the two suits followed him down the street. James would give him an earful tonight. Sebastian continued on down the road and glanced around to keep the other two interested taking a side alley. He hid in plain sight until they followed him in. The shadows were his friend now and he made quick work, disarming them and breaking the man’s neck. “Who do you work for?” He whispered to the woman who he had in a very tight headlock- not enough to knock her out yet though. “Fuck you!” She coughed and he snapped her like a twig. His stomach pulled and he took a moment to lean against the brick wall of the buildings surrounding him. Sebastian hid the bodies before heading back to where the first suit was. James had found a table and the suit was about to move in when he smiled and spoke in rusty Italian. “My friend!” He drew attention to the man- a very assassin like move for some- and a very smart move for him. Sebastian shook his hand, “Hows your mother, huh? Still cooking the best pasta?” Sebastian moved close to hug him, “Leave or you’re going to end up just like your colleagues.” The man pulled back before turning right around and disappearing into the crowd. The sniper turned his head to look back at James to scan for injuries and went back to take a seat in front of him. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes to eat before he comes back with more people so eat fast.”

                The final 'stay' before dropping James' hand made his blood run cold. Pale fingers clasped heavily at Sebastian's sleeve, again, this time not as a guide to lead him along. There was a flash of panic that filled his dark eyes. His lips pulled back into a snarl, quite ready to chew him the hell out for whatever lack of brain matter decided this was alright, but Sebastian was out of his grasp and gone before he could articulate any more of his words. For a few moments, he was stuck alone there, a new sense that made James almost nauseous filling him up. The man behind the counter asked if he was alright and James remembered that he had to keep on. He nodded, filling out the order, paying for it, then stepping over to the side. James kept in the general vicinity of people, keeping his gaze around the suit in the corner. When handed the food, he took it and made a fuss of getting condiments and things, faking conversation with a woman beside him. When the woman started to follow away, James did as well, picking a collaboration of seats still in a public place. Setting the tray down across from him, he kept quiet and still, the closest thing to a weapon--a plastic knife--clutched in his hand. He waited, noticing the man get up, but didn't give himself the time to betray his own anxiety. To his surprise and--dammit--relief, Sebastian seemed to materialize and take over the situation. When he sat down, James didn't look up at him, arms folded across his chest and his gaze outside the window. Jaw set, he was far from pleased with the other. "I seem to have lost my appetite," he replied, tone clipped before nodding towards the tray. "Eat."  
  
                Sebastian glanced at him and saw the tenseness still set in his jaw, the anger that caused the tiny vein near his temple to stick out of his head and the white knuckles. He’d both worried him and pissed him off. A bad combination. They wouldn’t argue here, not in public this time. He sighed and scratched the back of his head before shrugging. “I think we might want to leave.” He said it softly, trying to softly suggest the idea. It would all end up in the same place anyway but right now they were in a high risk area. “The refrigerator is empty.” Sebastian added shifting uneasily. His reasoning for what he did was solid but he would still undoubtedly get the snot beat out of him later if James’ wanted to go that far with him. A little blood tricked down his shirt though he didn’t notice it. The sudden movements had torn it open again and he didn’t bother opening the food they’d gotten. Blue eyes were looking up at the other through lowered blond lashes.

                "Fine." A sigh eased from his lips as James rose to his feet without any hesitation. Long fingers curled around the bags that Sebastian had ditched in his escapade out the door, leaving him to deal with the food. Right now was not the time for talking, though James wasn't sure what he would have said, if it was. It wasn't like it was the first time that Sebastian had barged out like that, guns ablazing while James was left behind to keep safe or to do other things--it was just the first time he'd ever been... not calm. It was quite evident, now, that James was going to have to depend further on the other and he hated it. It wasn't just for fun and games and, dammit, if that didn't infuriate him. He could kill him, but god help him if he did. Head down, arm back with his bag held against his back, his arm shielded his face as he started off towards the hotel, again. His hands were shaking, something new. James was silent on the walk back, forcing himself to calm right back down.   
  
                The ‘fine’ was clipped and very angry so he decided it would be better to just nod than speak. He picked up the food and stopped to ask one of the chief’s for a bag. After receiving a look like he was an idiot he got a bag and slipped the two containers into it before heading after James. They were half way back to the hotel when Sebastian noticed the other one quivering, either from anger or anxiety. Suddenly his little distraction act didn’t seem like the right idea after all… He didn’t know really know how to deal with that. It wasn’t the first time of course. James had been fine with it before… what had… His little narrating voice inside his head trailed off and he sighed out through his nose. _“Oh.”_ Was the first thought that went through his head. The hand from before returned to rubbing the skin on the back of his neck, almost causing it to turn red with irritation. Sebastian followed him to their room and set the food down on the table. No one had followed them and now he wondered what the hell he was going to say next. He turned back to James and stopped short.

                It was easy enough to get into the motel, offering the woman at the front desk a smile, expression alleviated of anything other than politeness. Steeping up to their room, he unlocked it before letting the bags fall to the floor. James kept dead silent as he crossed the room and drew the curtains shut. Walking back to the bags, he pawed through and divided them up, his on one side and Sebastian's on the other. Putting his own back into an empty bag, he turned on his heel to go into the loo, surprised when Sebastian was right there. His expression turned back to hard and distant. "I'm going to use the shower. I'll be-- Dammit, what the fuck were you doing?!" James' eyes lowered to Sebastian's stomach, sounding irritated. He proceeded to shove him down onto the bed before unceremoniously jerking his shirt up to get a better view. Right now, he was not in his most hospitable mood. 

                He growled, not liking being manhandled by the other but letting him get him to the bed. Sebastian hadn’t expected the shout about where he was and what he had been doing. “I was saving our asses! We were surrounded and the only option was to split them up to take them out!” He bounced once, using his elbows to support himself. Confusion spread across his face when James yanked up his shirt. He swatted him away but not succeeding, “It got a bit rough. Just go take your shower and I’ll take care of it…” The sniper muttered softly, deciding it was better to take the submissive role in this argument. James’ looked like he was about to hit him so it backed down a little more. “You should know by now I don’t run off for the hell of it.”

                "Brilliant, right! Completely unarmed and with nothing the fuck on you, you ran out there like some wet-behind-the-ears Intern and just hope that they don't shoot you, now, ask questions later?" James snarled at him. "Or, better yet, what the hell would have happened if they'd had back-up with them at the time?!" Black eyes were wide and furious, white hands gripping hard to the hem of the other's shirt. He didn't move from his position, pissed off, now. He'd been alright to ignore the argument, to let himself cool down, then talk it over; that wasn't an option. "No, I already saw you 'take care of it' today and I'd rather not have to go through that, again!" he snapped, undoing the gauze on the other's stomach, hands still shaking. "Whether it's for fun or not, you shouldn't have done that."   
  
                 
                “It’s better than them shooting you in the back of the head.” Sebastian narrowed his own eyes, teeth now grinding down a bit. Screw the backing down. He’d never been the type anyway. “They had guns but I didn’t see any back up. If we’d been caught in that restaurant then we wouldn’t have had any cover to get out anyway!” He didn’t take kindly to the man being practically on top of him. “What are you so fucking afraid of? I wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes and I took care of the problem!” The black eyes flicked toward him and he held his gaze. When they glanced back at the wound and started working on the dressing Sebastian grabbed his wrist tightly. “Where in the hell do you get the idea I think this is fun?” His voice was low now, seemingly reminding himself not to be so rough and eased the grip.

                "I'm so sorry! Because you can fucking see everything, now?! I wasn't aware of that, your Greatness! Forgive me for under-estimating the fact that you know every damned thing that's going to happen every damned minute!" he shouted back, his temper quickly flying out of control. Again, he was shaking and his head was starting to pound in a steady rhythm with every word that either of them hurled at the other. Sebastian's next accusation sent his heart-racing. He wasn't afraid. No. No. Emotions were the basest of human flaws and, no. He was wrong. He was so wrong. "I'm not afraid, you bastard!" he snapped at him, teeth barred. "What the hell does it matter to me if you leave me to go get your fucking arse shot-up! It doesn't matter!" James pulled his wrist back, trying to yank it out of the other's grasp as he felt his throat tighten up. Not like this. No.   
  
                He let go immediately swearing that he saw James start to… what on Earth? “Jim.” Sebastian said to him quietly, his hand no longer tightened around his wrist but on his hand and trying not to hurt him. His eyes were wide and he saw the other almost on the edge of tears or… No, James didn’t do that. That wasn’t possible for him. He let go completely and sat back on the bed from his half sat up position. The anger faded from him and he stopped yelling as James seemed to collect himself. “Do you want me to go?” Sebastian asked quietly picking a spot on the carpet where he’d bled on last night.

                It was awhile before James spoke, again, taking time to calm down. Slowly, tension seemed to sink back down into the depths of his being, tense, but not nearly as much as he was before. James sighed through his nose, heart slowed down the usual pace that it kept in his chest. He was fine. He was. "No," he stated calmly, looking back up after a moment, eyes clear and empty. "There's no reason for you to. I'm going to wash up." With that, James got to his feet, again, trying to sound calm and relaxed. "Don't try to move much and eat something. I assume you'd rather I'm not the one to try and bandage you up, once more?" 

                He was still wondering what the hell had just happened. Sebastian debated whether to reach out for him and apologize or let it hang there for a moment. Blue eyes looked down at his hands where he’d gripped him with furrowed eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. They soon looked at his own hands. Should he ask? No. Had he… The thought was immediately cut off. He shouldn’t think like that. James was, dare he even think it, one of the strongest people he knew. He’d survived a shit ton and then what had- Sebastian forcefully put it to the back of his mind. “Whatever you want me to do… I can do it myself… if you want…” He whispered.  
  
                Arms folded across his chest, he shook his head at length. "No, perhaps it's best, then, if I do it. It's not that I don't trust your own abilities to mend your own wounds, I just trust mine better." Sarcasm. Biting. Acting normal. A smirk attempted at the corner of his lips as he moved backwards towards the loo. "I'm serious about you eating," he reminded. "Just try not to dirty the floor up more than it is. They're already going to kill us for having to clean up broken glass." With that, James shut the door and started to undress. He felt exhausted, body wound tight. He wasn't even aware of the half that was happening within his own mind. It was like he was back in secondary school, again, with attacks and episodes and fighting to keep it under control. James didn't linger on it far too long, turning on the water after tossing his torn clothes into the rubbish bin and getting into the shower.


	10. Chapter 10

Sebastian stayed on the bed looking at his fingers and his hand for a while. Eventually he moved to the table where he made a very vague attempt at eating. James reaction had set him back quite a bit. Had James reacted like that because of who he was or something from the past? Had one of those bastards done something unthinkable to him? Sebastian eventually sat back in the chair by the table, being quiet and consumed by his thoughts. Should he apologize for doing the only thing he could do at the time? Questions banged around in his head one might have been surprised another room didn’t call and ask what the construction was. The wound didn’t bleed much and only the side was ripped open a little. He pressed a spare napkin into it and wished he had some strong vodka to quiet his brain. The shower cut off and he didn’t notice. Worried a little about what he had done. He’d never hit the other man before but grabbing him he’d only done once. James had hit him for it but this time was different. He leaned forward, putting his face in his hands.

                It had been so long since James had let his own mind get the better of him. He was the King of Crime and here he couldn't even control his own head. He blamed Sebastian, granted that he himself was just as much at fault. The past few months had made him dependent on an almost disgusting level. His main concern hadn't even been for his own well-being and that made him sick to his stomach. He cared. James felt the nausea bubble up, again. So many years, he'd avoided feeling and attachment as if it were the devil incarnate. One damned idiot came along who was 'different' and who 'hung around' even when life went to hell in a handbag and here he was, emotional. He hated Sebastian and hated that he couldn't. The hot water brought him back down to earth, the grime of the past few days coming off with a little work and persistency. A good fifteen minutes passed before James shut off the water, stepping out of the cubicle. Towel about his waist, James inspected the healing wounds and his general state. Stepping out of the room, he was met with an interesting sight. "Alright there?"

                He hadn’t even heard the other come out of the bathroom until he spoke. Sebastian looked up from where he had his head in his hands and kept silent for a moment. It was spur of the moment but who the fuck really cared anymore. “I’m sorry.” He told him, deciding that if they wanted things not to get tense and at least return to a little bit of normalcy; he’d have to give a little. Even when he knew he was right. Sebastian’s blue gaze held his before leaning back into his chair, not breaking eye contact. “It won’t happen again.” Voice being low and a tad bit dry.

                Eyebrow raised at him, he listened to him talk, rather surprised by the sudden apology. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and snort, rooting around in his bag of things for a pair of pants. "No, you're not. You're only apologizing because I seem to have 'flipped out'. And don't kid yourself, you will do it, again." He let his towel drop to the floor, pulling his pants on before looking over to him. "It's part of what you're supposed to do." Walking over to the table, he rooted out for the medical supplies, again, before walking back over to Sebastian. "Shirt up, let me see it." 

                “I’m not apologizing for that. Even if it did scare the shit out of me.” He held up a hand stop James but didn’t touch him. “I don’t want us to pull another cruise ship.” The not talking for weeks. Only sharing a bed. Then ending with him getting stabbed in the got, swimming twenty miles and then getting very weak from blood loss completely scared that he’d never see the other again. Sebastian lowered his gaze to floor again before bringing it back up. “I meant it. I’m your employee. I shouldn’t run off.” It was his turn to be taken aback by what the other meant that it’s what he was supposed to do. His eyebrows were furrowed, silently asking for an explanation. The hand was still poised to keep him from looking at it but not going to touch him again.

                The criminal leant back into the wall, listening. He nodded every so often, giving a 'mm' when it was considered appropriate. Arms across his chest, again, he offered a weak smile when he wrapped up his side of the argument with a confused expression. "It's more or less become my job to freak people the hell out," he observed. "No, especially not when I told you not to, but it worked out for the situation that we were in. My... antipathy on the situation should not have been part of your decision, all the same. It was incredibly stupid for you to do such things, not armed as you were, but it worked out all the same. Even if it was, perhaps, short-sighted, it was a decision that you made that did work out for the best, despite personal feelings on it." 

                Sebastian narrowed his gaze, understanding completely now and nodded his agreement. The smile did nothing to ease his mind on what had happened between them.  After a few moments he chose not to comment about any of it and let it drop. He just didn’t feel like arguing and he really didn’t want a repeat of the damn ship. Finally the hand lowered again, but slowly. The walls were up again and he didn’t even know it. “Like I said. It won’t happen again.” He replied to the other finally.

                James noticed it, though. Fuck. His smile dropped away from his lips to reveal a reserved look. "Course." James ran a hand back through his own hair before kneeling in front of Sebastian, again. He didn't ask for permission to lift up the shirt and adjust the bandaging. Quiet, he worked as skilfully and gently as he did the first time, tending to the torn section of the wound. Given the minute size of the break, James didn't even need to get the thread and needle out, again. Instead, he placed a securer section of bandaging there, hesitating to wrap him up just yet. "Do you want to wash up, first?"

                He kept still as a statute and as quiet as one would be in a graveyard. His head was turned a little not to watch him and didn’t show any sign that James was doing the work until he finished. Sebastian sat up a bit but James’ didn’t move from where he was in front of him. “I think it would be best… Thank you.” He added the soft spoken thanks at the end of it, not really sure to treat him now. Their relationship never really was simple. Started out as just screwing the boss, then he was a pet, then he was disposable, then James had come back to him, then he was wanted again…  Never simple with them and here he was wondering where he stood once more. Was he employee or was he fuck buddy or… Wasn’t like he could ask either.

                He offered a nod before rising to his feet in a graceful manner. Stepping back towards the bed, he gathered up his current project--the laptop--before resuming the perch he'd held hours earlier. "Be careful, then, when you're washing," he warned, turning on the device before allowing himself to be sucked into his work. He was so exhausted, far more emotionally than physically drained; the former always far more taxing than the latter. He'd love to have slept, but he found that was a little hard, as of late. Shaking his head, he continued where he'd left off in the programming, continuing to mark out the string of code across the screen, almost complete. 

                Sebastian stood and headed to the restroom with quick steps. He paused before shutting the door behind him until it was only a crack. He took off the clothing slowly and put them in a stack on the sink. Not bothering to look himself in the mirror he went immediately to the shower and turned it on. Nor did he wait for it to get warm either. The shower current was weak and cold before it started up and burnt his skin almost. Sebastian hissed softly letting the warm water come over him. He rested his head against the side of the shower, letting the far too warm water burn it’s path down his skin and also having steam come out the door. Eventually the wound started to hurt so he turned the shower off. It seemed a while afterward and he took one of the unused towels that were left. He spared a glance at himself in the mirror. He resembled a skeleton. The cuts and bruises on him and the gray tone to his once tan skin. He paused a few more seconds before picking up his things and going back into the main room.

                The laptop kept him distracted for, perhaps, a grand total of five minutes. Once the coding was finished, James couldn't quite bring himself to continue. He shut it down after a minute, flopping onto his side and trying to relax. His head was still spinning through what had all happened that day, rather regretting his decision to go for lunch, now. Coming back might have been a task far easier; Sebastian still had food here from the few days previous. James ran his hands over his face. He only looked up as the room started to get warmer, noting the steam, and when he heard the door open back up, again. He'd wait until he dried off before attempting to bandage him up, still cautious as to how much contact the other could handle. 

                He came back into the room and put a pair of pants on. They were low enough on the hip that it let his wound still show through if James still wanted to bandage him. He glanced around and sighed softly. His irritated skin on his shoulders and back were bright red from his shower being so hot but he didn’t seem to notice too much. He came up to the chair and plopped himself down in it once more- very tired despite everything. Sebastian didn’t look at James, hoping he’d somehow fallen asleep.

                After a few minutes, James eased to his feet without a word. He picked up the box, again, taking his place before Sebastian, again. He was quick about it, ensuring that everything was in place and that the gauze was tight enough to keep it dry and to help it heal. Ends tucked into the body of the binding, he shut the box and got up to his feet. Eyes raked over him thoughtfully, pausing at the angry, red marks on his body. A finger twisted around the outside, a frown on his lips as the fiery skin. He sighed, hesitantly lifting the hand away before drawing it through the blond's hair, too cautious to try and speak and almost hesitant to touch him further. 

                James was gentle with him, far more gentle than he had expected the other to be with him. Sebastian let him carefully wrap his wounds of his own supposed stupidity and stayed in place not saying a word. His eyes were shut tightly when he felt fingers through his hair. At first he went still as stone, not even breathing as the fingers slowly went through his blond locks. He didn’t understand himself suddenly. His heart nearly skipped a beat and relief flooded through him. Though he didn’t know particularly why he felt his chest muscles relax. His blue eyes slowly opened and looked up at James, curious but confused and a little sad all at the same time. He sighed through his nose and leaned his head into James’ hand.

                As the other slowly began to react, James continued his ministrations. Feeling the other relax beneath his own touch was good enough for him, a tired, half-smile offered to him when he looked up. "Come on," he mumbled, nodding his head towards the bed. "You look like you're exhausted. I think it's time to call it a night." Ruffling the other's hair, his free hand reached down and gently tugged up on his arm. Taking a step back, he tried to coax the other from the chair and towards the bed.

                Sebastian was perfectly fine with the other just being near him instead of away from him. He sighed softly and kissed his head before letting the other coax him out of the chair. “You look tired too…” He murmured and going to his side of the bed. The sniper was a little skittish of touching him, though it was fine for James to do it to him. He was worried he had done something wrong before but he supposed that he wasn’t completely hated now since the other was being so… calm? No that wasn’t the word. Sebastian crawled into bed and looked up at him, wondering if he would join him.

                "I feel it," he admitted, letting his walk over to the other side of the bed. Turning out the light, he plopped down onto his own side of the bed and let his legs twist down under the duvet. Half on his own side of the bed and half in the middle of the bed, James tried to relax in the position he usually kept residence in. Head laid back, he looked up at the other, trying to monitor the expressions on his face. "Are you going to sleep?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile on his face. It was late and they could both certainly use the sleep. Hell knew what they were going to do tomorrow, he honestly didn't want to give it that much thought. 

                He nodded softly and looked around at him. “Yeah…” Sebastian whispered and went back down into the covers pulling up his own covers. He brought the pillow closer and sighed softly. “Night…” The sniper whispered glad to have someone- mainly James- close to him.

   
                His sleep wasn't necessarily dreamless, nor was it the kind of sleep that one would consider "good", but it was adequate. James awoke early the next morning to silence, a stark contrast to what had been going on in his head whilst he slept. All was good, dark, and safe, the man realizing it'd been nothing more than a dream as he forced himself back down against the bed. Heart still racing, he ran a hand over his face then dropped it down against the bed, surprised when it fell against something. On alert, again, James relaxed when he realized it was Sebastian and that he had quite effectively migrated across the bed. His smile was wane as he slowly unwrapped himself from the cocoon of the bedding, slithering to the other side until his feet hit the floor. He got ready quickly, teeth brushed and dressed before he started fiddling on the laptop, silent to let the other sleep.

                Nearly an hour later Sebastian’s hand reached out for James in his sleep, resting in the spot that was vacated. It swept over it and with that it caused him to wake up in alarm. He sat up, looking around wildly at first, thinking they were under some sort of attack or- Sebastian spotted James at the table watching him with a mildly amused look on his face. A light shade of red came to his cheek and he swallowed, “Uh… Morning?” He cleared his throat after that, scratching the back of his head.

                "Morning, tiger." James ran a hand back through his hair, attention split between the man and the machine that he was toying with. "Couldn't sleep so I got up. Hope I didn't startle you." He was hardly deterred by the other's worry, a little regretful to have caused it.... It'd been a rather endearing sight to see, all the same. "When you're ready enough to get up, you can come look at a few places I'm browsing." As nice as stay in the city was, James was looking forward to getting to someplace more... permanent. And easier to set up security measures around.   
  
                He fell back into bed at that moment in relief before getting up again. Sebastian included his head to the hand petting him and moved closer to him. The sniper shook his head to dismiss his sudden antics of panic. He came closer to him and leaned on him a little. “Show me.” He mumbled nuzzling his shoulder slightly.

                He smiled at the other's affectionate behavior, reminded how appealing Sebastian was so early in the morning. Keeping up the gentle ministrations with his right hand, he backtracked to the few pages that he'd bookmarked. "There's one towards the North, closer to the water. It's a nice villa, actually. Good amount of space. Neighbors are spaced away from. Lots of room both indoors and out. This one is to the South with a similar set-up, but it's a dual-story while the other is a single-story. Both are 3 bed, 2 1/2 bath, and 2 car. The first one has a pool, if you're all that interested in that. The second one is a little closer to civilization, though."

                His eyes were barely open as James spoke to him. “First option is safer.” Sebastian purred softly as the hand kept going. Best time to pet a tiger is in the morning before he completely wakes up. “Closer to water means easier to dispose of bodies and easier access ways to escape by boat. Also one floor is easier to take care of than two. More room means better traps and easier access ways- though also more ground to cover if there is an intruder.” He yawned. “Pool is good to drown people in. And farther from civilization means easier to track them down if they run and less people to hear their screams.”

                The criminal was hard-pressed to keep in his own laughter at Sebastian's words. So cuddly and yet so violent. Yeah, he was certainly good to keep around. "I'm not sure what you were doing the past nearly four years, but I don't recall disposing of people inside of my own home. Well, often, at least. A couple a month isn't too bad." Dragging his nails gently against the other's scalp, he nodded his head at his words, looking over view of the first house, again. "So should I put an offer on it and we'll look over at it in a few days' time?" he asked, smiling over at his sniper with a fond look. Sleep had certainly helped him calm back down. 

                He continued to make the soft purring noise in the back of his throat. “Not _disposing_ , just killing.” He shrugged one shoulder that wasn’t leaning a bit on James. “Disposing it what the ocean is for. Mafia style and we don’t have to buy the fish.” Sebastian licked his lips. He liked it when James’ used nails through his hair and again the nickname was more truthfully than ever. “If you want to…  Few days would be good. Need a car….” He went off muttering about alligators and fell asleep again.  
  
                His words were ridiculous, James feeling in a far better mood than he had the previous night. Once Sebastian began to drift off of on his shoulder, he completed the transaction, keeping quiet so that the other could sleep. He was far easier to manage like this, besides, he deserved some sleep, given what he'd been through the past few days. His hand didn't still, though the one on the computer kept up an easy pace as he started a new query; Sebastian had a job and, unfortunately, it looked like James was going to need one until things could settle back to normal. And, if they were starting over, it was best to start how he had last time...

                Sebastian drifted in and out of consciousness after that. His hand searched out, trying to find James again and found his pants material. He brushed his hand along it before retreating back to where it was before. He blinked slowly and hummed softly to him, not fully awake yet again, “You should eat something.” He was very docile still and sprawled beside the criminal. His hand returned to James’ leg, brushing the back of his knuckles along his knee carefully.

                         He was surprised to feel the other nudge against him, shifting to let the intruding hand come against his side. A low laugh eased out as he eyed the other, nodding his agreement. "Perhaps. But I recall that you haven't eaten, either," he reminded, nodding to the untouched bag. Long fingers sprawled through the blond hair, letting him be as affectionate as he wished. It was nice to see him like that, even if it would only be for the time being.

                "I'll do it if you do it." He sounded very similar to a child just then though not meaning to in the slightest. He curled toward the other, enjoying the movements and knowing James was in arms distance. The hair on the back of his neck raised slowly. He ignored it, putting it off to waking up with half of the covers off of him. Sebastian licked his dry lips and sighed softly, "Do we have to get up..." He mumbled afterward, never being exactly a good one to wake up in the mornings to begin with. Now was just a testament to that. "We can pretend we broke the room again and shoot a maid if they come in."

                James couldn't help but to snort; there was the ultimatum. He sighed, rolling his eyes at the other's words, but he seemed to give in all the same. "Fine, fine," he dismissed, shaking his head. "If that's the only thing that's going to get you to eat, I suppose that I'll have to." He settled back into the comfort of the moment, but was brought back by the tensing beside him. His attention was immediately brought down, eyebrow raised. "You don't have to, no, but I'm going to go out for a little time at some point today," he admitted. "You're welcomed to stay here and sleep. Rest up. And don't kill anyone needlessly; laying low, tiger."

                Sebastian moved a little now the other could stretch out completely beside him. The sigh and snort was a sign of irritation but it didn’t look like James was too angry with his mutterings. “We both need our strength. I’m not the only ones with wounds.” His large hand ghosts over James’ leg still. Barely touching it, just letting the other know he was still close. Sebastian felt the hair on his arm go up and his brow furrowed, a weight on the edge of his mind. “I’m coming.” He immediately answered him, the thought of dark haired man walking around without him never did seem appealing and it sure as hell didn’t now- even if he knew James could take care of himself. “I can lay low…” Sebastian muttered, like he wasn’t completely a bull in a China shop.

                Even if he wouldn't say it or physically own up to it, the slight reassurances that Sebastian was still right there made James thankful given yesterday's events. Especially because of yesterday's events. "Yes, but mine aren't half as significant as yours are," he countered, though there wasn't much put into his side of the argument. His stomach was currently furious that he'd skipped out on the only meal he'd partaken in the previous day. "You don't have to," he reminded, though he didn't quite mind if he wanted to. "There's a pawnbroker of sorts, if I read the sign correctly. I'd like to see how much investing in a handgun or switchblade would benefit me. And, yes, you can. You do it well, sometimes."

                Sebastian kept up the ministrations of his hand and sighed softly. “We’re both beat to a pulp. Soon as we get to lay in bed all day and not worry about anyone else the better.” He sighed and sat up from where he was. He heard the other’s stomach growl softly and make other noises that could have been related to an angry frog. With legs thrown over the side of the bed he stood, his back cracking and his shoulder blades with the movement. Sebastian went to the food, glanced at it before popping it into the little microwave. “Thank god for standard hotels…” He muttered before turning back to James’. “I wouldn’t mind a knife either, even if it’s a standard Swiss-army knock off from America.” Sebastian chuckled lowly, making his chest vibrate. “Only sometimes?”

                He laughed quietly, shutting the laptop lid before laying back and letting his eyes fall shut. A smile ghosted his lips, liking the idea more than he was sure that he himself could convey. "Give it another week. Get out of this rot and try to get into a place of our own. Can lounge there and recuperate and do whatever the hell." He reached a hand out, spidery fingers brushing against the shredded curtains. "Won't get in trouble, even, for breaking shit if we get... rowdy." When the other got up, James twisted onto his side to keep an eye on him. "Yeah, they're good for a few things. And a knock-off will do well enough until I can find something nice enough to handle well." That was the one thing that he missed more than he cared to admit; it'd be one of two personal items that he'd always kept on him, both lost on that damn ship.

                He yawned behind his hand and saw the emotion of regret flash across James’ face. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him, quietly asking what was wrong. The microwave spun until it blared at him and he removed the two meals from it, setting them on top of the table. “Rowdy. Is that what they are calling it these days.” He smirked at James and cocked his head to the side, “What are you thinking about?” Sebastian finally gave up and decided to ask him, coming to the conclusion that no matter how much he wanted to read the other’s mind, he couldn’t.

                The man sat up, slowly, throwing the table a look, as if deciding if moving over there was really worth all of that effort. "Well, it's a more polite term for 'randy beyond all imagination'," he teased, a Cheshire smile on his lips as he brought his arms over his head to stretch. Slowly, he eased onto his feet and took a seat in one of the vacant chairs. "Lost my switchblade on the ship. My crucifix, too, but... Items of sentiment." He laughed dryly as he peeled back the lid for the food, letting the savoury smell fill up the room. "The only things of material that I held dear to. I'll admit that I miss the pair of them."

                He paused thinking about the items he’d mentioned losing. The crucifix was more important to James than just a sentimental piece of jewelry. Sebastian peeled back his own lid and looked at the food for a moment. Stomach feeling hollow. Surely it was good idea to retrieve at least some things… The liner was undoubtedly still being checked over by police if they’d even bothered to mess with it yet. Italian police were sometimes lazy, that he knew. His rifle and his dogtags had been left- He paused. If they found his dogtags they could trace his whereabouts. “I know you’re going to hit me over the head with a shoe but I think it’s in our best interest if we go back to that cruise ship. Not only for the ‘sentimental’ objects but the stuff we need too. They won’t expect us to come back, not to mention that it would be a lot easier to get a job with my rifle. Hell the cash I had in the backpack.” He didn’t mention the dogtags. Not yet.

                James took a spoonful of the mixture, bringing it to his lips after a moment. He paused to fix his gaze on him, expression far from amused. Swallowing, he rolled his eyes. "No. Hell knows what kind of trouble we would connect to if we went back there. It's probably swimming with cops and those looking to make sure that you and I are both _actually_ dead." Granted, their run-in yesterday hadn't exactly eased his own nerves of whether or not people were following them. Then again, short of faking their deaths, there wasn't much else to do. "Come now, you can purchase a rifle anywhere around here. Or buy one from the internet; it really isn't that hard. And between the pair of us, I'm more than confident that we have enough currency to survive." 

                Damn. Now he had to tell him. “The rifle is easy to get. Yeah. We have plenty of money too. But the problem to this is my dogtags. You remember when I got out of the military and they had all those damn chips put in us to find us on the battlefield if we went missing.” He fixed his gaze with James’. “One of those trackers are in my dogtags. If they find it we’re going to be found out. There English dogtags too, so you can figure they’ll know soon enough.” He hadn’t taken a bite yet, “I didn’t think of it until now but that might be how they keep finding us. Since you’ve always had them or me, we never thought to remove the chip. We can- if you think your surgical skills can get it out of me.”


	11. Chapter 11

                For all of two minutes, James was dead silent. Eyes shut, he didn't even seem to be breathing. Then, all at once, he turned back on like a toy with replaced batteries. His nails hit against the table in rapid succession, his eyes flickered open, and his upper lip curled upwards. "Dammit, Sebastian..." A low groan escaped his lips as he fixed him with a fiery kind of glare. "Saying this sooner might have been far more helpful than saying it, now." He got to his feet, quickly, stalking away from Sebastian and towards the window. He kept pace between the table and wall, lost in thought. "I'm brilliant, but not without proper equipment. Dammit!" 

                “I don’t like it either. We can either go and get surgical tools or I can go back to the ship. It’ll be better if I go alone since I know where everything is and they’ll be expecting both of us if at all. Plus it’ll only be tracking me.” Sebastian knew he wouldn’t like the idea either but it was logical. “I didn’t think of it until now when you mentioned the ship. If I can get aboard since they’ll be more worried about looking for the-“ He stopped again and tapped his fingers to his lips. “I’ll need to erase the names I got us on board with. If they find the bodies of all those people onboard and then find two missing then that’s two of our best aliases out the window.” He growled to himself.

                James stopped dead, dark eyes fastened onto the other as derisive laughter slipped out. "Hell. No. Read my words, Moran, you are not going alone. You need back-up if you're doing this," he insisted, pointing out the window in reference to the ship that was kilometers and kilometers away from where they were talking. James huffed, combing both hand through his hair with a loud groan. His stomach was knotting up and anxiety was at fault. "Sebastian Moran..." He shook his head, not liking any of this at all, despite the fact that this was necessary. He hated that it was. "You aren't going alone," he repeated. 

                He paused before sighed, “Jim…” Sebastian looked up at him, “You need to stay here and you know it. I can make it in and out faster if I’m alone and they’ll be looking for mainly you. No one cares about the assassin. Only the big fish.” He didn’t like leaving the other but since they didn’t have the tools to rip the chip out of him and the dogtags would track it… It was there only option. “It’ll take me maximum of three days and that’s only if I have to lose someone. Which I won’t. I’ve handled worse without backup.” He let the statement hang in the air. There had been a lot worse than going to mess around with a ship. Sebastian knew what to do, James would just have to agree. The groan made him hesitate. “I have to. You can blend easier here without me for a few days. Check on the place that you showed me earlier and I’ll get what we need.”

                James wasn't sure where to start with his rebuttals; what if someone was left here to watch them and saw Sebastian leave or used Sebastian as bait or fucking killed either of them. There were holes in their plans, big, gaping ones that James was quite happy to help make bigger. "I don't have to damned-well do anything that I don't feel comfortable with, Moran, and you'd be wise to remember that," he snapped, more business and less-pleasure in his voice. "I understand that I've given you far more reigns as of recent, given the events of late, but you damned well better remember _who_ is the boss and _who_  is the employee. I do not want you going out there by yourself." He was in far better control of himself than the day previous, food and sleep and washing and new clothes apparently helping his mood. "This is pointlessly placing yourself in harm's way and that's not a liability that I'm willing to sacrifice at this moment. I'm going with you."

                The soldier in him snapped to attention at the commanding tone of Moriarty’s voice. But the tiger in him nearly opened his mouth to argue. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he finally spoke lowly, “Yes sir.” Sebastian’s next thoughts surprised him and he immediately suppressed them. It was just like old times. One minute Sebastian wanted to love the man and the next he wondered exactly how much pressure it would take to snap the other’s neck like a twig. “When are we leaving then, sir?” The food was going cold; he could feel the bowl next to his hand. The fucking moron of a ‘boss’ was going to put himself into unwarranted danger because he was either fearful or being reckless. It would be safer for him to go alone but no~ James would throw a fit. He kept his thoughts silent thankfully.

                Arms folded across his chest, long fingers tapped against his bicep as James raised an eyebrow at him. The thoughts didn't need to be verbalized. "That's better." James straightened his back, gesturing Sebastian back towards the food as he started to shuffle through the things that they'd accumulated in the room. "Tomorrow morning. I do still have things that I need to do this afternoon," he mumbled, more to himself than to the other. His hands passed through the bag, searching for what was and wasn't acceptable in the next few days. Yes, he was being demanding, but that was hardly new. It was merely a new place and a new scenario. Wouldn't damn have happened if... James shook his head, not letting his thoughts go too far down that path. 

                Sebastian grudgingly went back to his food. He ate slowly and shoved at much down his throat as possible. There was still fuming going on his head so he ignored the words coming out of James mouth mostly. He made a snap decision. James wouldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t have a bedmate, an employee, or a companion all in one. He’d have to choose- but not now. Sebastian finished half of it and felt like puking but held it down with willpower. The thought of just leaving ran through his mind- but he had promised not to run off again and he never broke a promise- well, unless it was to someone he was torturing but that was a completely different matter. Sebastian eventually finished and went to his own stuff to find a shirt to put on since his torso was still naked from the night before.  
  
                What appetite he'd managed up, again, seemed to have vanished in an instant. It wasn't that James out-right refused to eat, he merely went through seasons where his body wanted food and when he rejected. Usually, when he was working, he was so solely focused on the task at hand that eating hardly even seemed necessary; it'd happened, again. Half perched over his laptop as it started up, he dabbled through quick research. Light-weight, long blade, good handle, compact; that he could work with. Two would be preferable. James glanced through the knives on the page, none of them seeming to catch his eye. He muttered quietly to himself about makes and models, not even paying Sebastian a lick of mind until he seemed satisfied with his query. Shoes tugged onto his feet, he picked up his wallet. "Leaving. Are you coming?" 

                For a whole second he considered telling him to fuck off. But alas, he got up and slipped on his own shoes. The silent treatment worked best he supposed, it saved him from yelling and saying ‘sir’ to the other. The old days. That was a bitch and a half and he refused to think about it. It pissed him off honestly. He followed James out the door and turned to lock it back. He’d follow him around like a good dog because that’s what he was. At least for now.

                To be honest, he wasn't sure if he preferred the silence or not. It certainly brought back an element of familiarity, but at what cost? The air was cold and uncomfortable, but James did nothing to solve it. Key in his pocket with his wallet, he lead out of the hotel and onto the main road. It was just the same as yesterday; same doldrums and same people pushing and shoving to get to their own destinations. Head down, James steered through the traffic rather easily, only looking up every so often to see where they were in retrospect to where they needed to be. He only acknowledged the other's presence once, reaching back to grab the fabric of his shirt to tug him into a small pawnbroker shop and out of the bustle. 

                Sebastian kept pace, growling at whomever came to close or who bumped into him. One balding middle aged man was about to tell him to watch where he was going when he happened to look into Sebastian’s face. He quickly apologized and scurried away. His sleeve was tugged and he turned to see James pulling him into a shop. Any other time he would have been fine with it, but the familiarity of it just seemed to piss him of more though he didn’t remove the grip. _Stupid fucking ‘boss’ thinks he knows fucking ‘everything’ because he was the fucking ‘legendary’ Moriarty._ He growled within his own head and let the other work. Why did he bother staying with a man who thought more of himself than- okay maybe he was everything he said he was but fuck if he wasn’t annoying at times. Sebastian’s rationality made him stew in his own corner while James spoke. 

                Dismissing his sniper to pout in the corner, James stepped up to a very eager, very greasy man behind the counter. Between the pair of them, a conversation in fluid Italian started over, James only stumbling now and, again, as he conjugated the wrong verb or added the wrong word here and there. The tone gave away everything, however, the pair of them discussing. Immediately, when the store owner figured out what James wanted, he brought him to a broad collection of blades. James looked over the group of them, picking up several to handle them and decide how he liked each. One fit well between the crease of his thumb and index, James surprised. Facing the wall opposite, he let it cushion there before letting the blade fly swiftly across the room, embedding perfectly in the wedge between the wall and door. He tilted his head thoughtfully before turning to the box and inspecting the rest further. 

  
                Sebastian looked at the blade stuck in the wall and swallowed remembering something. He swallowed hard and felt a lump in his throat. Hickory. Even though he’d killed her himself he had to take a step out of the shop. Of course, he went right outside and no farther, obeying the rule not to run off. He needed a minute to breath. They’d flung knives at him, barely missing most of the time. That was before they’d taken the silver lighter and burned his tattoo off of his skin. He took breaths and ignored the looks James had shot him from the inside of the store. Sebastian had almost forgetting about being used as a living dart board while they asked him where James had gone. A dark thought crossed his mind _. ‘I went through all that bullshit for him so why shouldn’t I run off on him. See how-’_ He silenced it and waited on the steps. He’d rather fight with his fists than a knife anymore.

                It was another several minutes before James came out of the shop, pocketed weighted down with a new toy and his wallet significantly lighter. He didn't speak on the subject, gathering enough of the situation from what he'd merely seen in that moment. He was hesitant to do anything major or to offer the man any significant comfort, not sure how much he would take. He merely caught the edge of his sleeve, tugging back in the direction they'd come before letting his hand drop away. "Come along, tiger," he called, starting off at a slower pace than before. 

                Sebastian sighed softly, picking up his thoughts and dusting them off in a way. He felt his sleeve be tugged gently and he decided it was in his best interest to follow. It didn’t take long for him to go back inside himself. That was his best option now days anyway. He yawned quietly behind his hand, still being both physical and mentally tired. Sebastian glanced right and left, keeping an out regardless if he was pissed off at the man or not.

                True to his words, James only made a stop at the pawnbroker's shop before trudging back into the hotel room. Passing the key card to Sebastian, James muttered something about "making use of the small shop" before dipping towards the little room that odds and ends were kept in for the guests to use. Right now, as rather ridiculous as it seemed, he'd have killed a man for a spot of nicotine at the moment. And here he thought he'd quit once more...

                Sebastian took the keycard from him wordlessly and uses it to open the door in the same motion though his own was in his pocket. It didn’t really matter to him anymore. A plan had formed in his mind in the walk home, though he wasn’t sure how long or how fast he’d put take to put into action. He followed yet again, going inside and taking a seat. There was some sort of ruckus upstairs, someone was shouting in Spanish and the hair on the back of his neck rose. “James…” He muttered softly, muscles tensing. Again the internal alarms were going off inside his head.

                James stepped up the clerk, making a request for a pack and a lighter. It was a quick exchange, though James' focus drifted to the voice. He nodded his head at the sounds coming from the upstairs, set at ill-ease. Taking the carton from the man, he glanced up at the travel-pack on the wall, a small mirror reflecting the barrel of a gun. Black eyes flew wide and James went down, grabbing a handful of Sebastian's hair down with him behind a case of shelves as a bang resounded in the small room and the clerk doubled over his counter. 

                The sniper went down hard, not expecting or looking in the general direction of the gun barrel. He snarled, his head hurting and his elbow from hitting the tile flooring, toward the men upstairs. Multiple things happened at once. The Spaniards came trumping down the stairs, shouting in their language and Sebastian narrowed his eyes as one pointed a gun at James before demanding they come out from their cover. There were four of them, and one was a female. The shortest was the man he had let go from the other day. That mistake would not happen again. “You take two?” He spoke lowly, guns pointed at them.

                Heart racing, James found it hard to keep silent. He found that he was able to keep up with a majority of what was said, granted, his Spanish wasn't nearly as good as his Italian. From his position, he could feel the heel of the sheathed switchblade digging into his thigh. He gave a slight, almost unnoticed nod, honestly wishing he'd taken the man at the store's offer for the handgun as well. Still... His eyes fell over the place, designing a plan of attack. Cold fingers found the space of Sebastian's back, tapping slow. 'Ready.'

                Just as the tallest of the four leveled the gun to Sebastian’s forehead he twitched his shoulder. ‘Set.’ He was squeezing down on the trigger when Sebastian felt the ‘go’ and went into motion. The man sprung up, using his head to slam into the jaw of the other, catching him and tossing him into the woman who ironically had the biggest gun- a fully automatic assault rifle. She went to aim and nearly got him before having the barrel of it shoved underneath her chin with her finger still on the trigger. They were really not taking prisoners this time since the last time that had happened, an entire branch of the mafia had gone up in flames. He punched the man in the face when he tried to get up and kicked one of James’ men in the ass to get him closer to James now he could stab him or do something else. Combat was fun, especially when it ended with the other group bleeding on the floor.

                For his size, James was a rather devilish force to deal with. Even before his three years MIA, he was one that was quite aware of how to use his own body in combat. Three years where it was depended on had only made him a darker enemy to be reckoned with. In a flash of silver, the blade was out, James was on his feet and his first adversary was weaponless. Hands came to his waist, James using the momentum to reel the other into the shelving behind him, foot hitting the one in front of him straight in the nose. One dealt with, James turned, blade little more than an extension of his own body as it cut cleanly through the mass of tissue, muscle, and flesh with enough force. Despite the blood spatter, James seemed to be dealing fine. When the other was brought forward, again, he finished him off without much of a problem. Blade soaked as well as the majority of his person, he looked up at Sebastian and the carnage around them. "Nice work." 

                He nodded, already knowing what it was and what it wasn’t and ‘nice’ hadn’t come to mind. “Get a jacket or something.” Sebastian gestured toward the coats since James front was soaked and parts of his face. Since he’d used his fists, his attire wasn’t bloody in the slightest. While James tried to clean himself up a bit, he went to the security station behind the now dead store clerk and removed the tapes completely. As a last minute thought, he took one of the packs, stuck the tape inside of it to destroy later and a few more packs of cigarettes. Dead men told no tails so who would care about a few less packs of cigarettes. Besides, after all this hell, he needed to smoke.

                Taking the one with the least amount of blood, James eased it onto his shoulder, not too bothered with how it looked. Rooted out, again. It seemed like they were always on the run. Maybe he was losing his touch, but he was looking forward to staying in the same place. Some what. "Take one of the guns, not that I'm sure I need to tell you that." James rummaged through, picking up a handgun that was simple enough to be used and wouldn't be too much of a hassel. "We're taking their car. Get it running. I'll dismantle the GPS while e drive. Be down in ten," he instructed, tucking the weapon away for hiding before ducking into their room. 

                Sebastian didn’t say a word as James gave him instructions. When he finished, he scooped up two of the guns and any extra ammo that he had on them. The sniper grunted in acknowledgement before pushing open the door and heading outside. The plan was definitely going into motion soon if he had his way- usually he didn’t. When he found the car, he realized how standardized these people actually were since it was a plain black SUV. He got it open, threw the bags inside it and dealt with getting everything done. James took a bit longer than he said he would- making Sebastian consider if he should go check on him since the last time he’d waited on the other man and him not be where he said- James had gone missing for almost a couple years. Sebastian leaned back in the seat and screwed with the GPS until James came out. He lit one of the cigarettes up, unlocking the car door and starting the engine at the same time.

                Throwing the doors open, he tossed a pair of bags into the back before getting into the passenger seat. He looked a little pale, something obviously on his mind from his time spent inside. He didn't elaborate, merely pushing the chair back before beginning to rummage around in the glove compartment. He gave them the nod when he was ready, pulling out a torch before crawled onto the space under the dashboard, torch between his teeth as he set to undoing the wiring from the GPS. It wasn't until the bitter-smoke of the cigarette hit him that he began to calm back down, again, working in silence at the wiring. 

                Sebastian did not speak either. He let the smoke flew from his parted lips as he backed the car up and headed toward the hotel to pick up what they had left. Any other time he would have just left it, but honestly he wasn’t in the mood of leaving anything else behind. The traffic was a pain, but he kept his emotions in check. He found a spare pair of sunglasses in the upper compartment and decided to keep them for layer. His blue eyes glanced at James, but still, mutism had become his defining term.

                The man spent a few minutes trying to get in proper position. Finally, he had his arm scrunched up against the floorboard, the other holding wires for examination, half on his side with one foot over the console and the other curled up on the passenger seat. In all honesty, it wasn't too uncomfortable--as long as he breathed sparingly. James worked well, pulling and twisting at wires, noting where they connected and where they didn't. It was child's play to him, the man presented with far more pressing conundrums first thing in the morning. He waited until they were at lights or a standstill before he actually worked, deciding that it might save the trauma of an in-ride electrocution. Or worse. 

                Eventually they came to a stop in front of the hotel. He still had the key on him so thankfully he didn’t have to break his vow of silence. Sebastian got out of the car and headed inside, leaving the car running and lights on now James could still work. The clerk spoke rapid Italian to him- but he had no idea what he was saying. He seemed agitated and he waved him off with a hand. Sebastian went to their shared room, thinking nothing more until he was nearly kicked through the door from the behind. He let out a shout. Someone a lot bigger than him kicked him in the side, causing him to involuntarily roll over and then a wire came around his neck. Sebastian clawed at his throat, not being able to breath and feeling a bit of blood drip from the cut that was forming. He coughed before fighting as hard as he could, then laying limp. It was a tactic that had worked for him before, but he was close to needing to breath. Like a moron the person withdrew and spoke in soft Italian to someone else. He took a slow breath of air before wrapping his legs around his main attack’s own, bringing him to the ground. Sebastian hit the other before getting a gun in the face. He turned at the last minute, it hitting him in the temple. Whoever these two were, they were good. Sebastian saw black in one eye before receiving a kick to sternum. It knocked the air out of his lungs and sent him backwards. The window broke and someone hit him with something else. He went flying out and landing on the car hood. He was glad they were on the second floor for the first time.

                Pushed further up into the floorboard when they came to a stop, James only glanced up at Sebastian when he slipped from the car. It was anyone's guess, now, when the hell Sebastian was going to talk to him, again. James honestly still didn't see the other's problem, but he himself had never been good at sticking himself in the other's shoes. He was the boss, that was how it'd always been. Only recently in their relationship--even if it'd been a couple of years--had they taken it to anything more than that. It really was such a difficulty that people weren't as easy as machines. Well. Relatively so. Whatever arsehole decided to pour the entire crayon box into the wiring system ought to have been shot, revived, then shot, again. Especially when whatever colour-coded sadist decided to make several of them the _same damned_ colour but only a different _shade_. Still. With enough work and second guessing, James managed to disarm the GPS. Crawling out from his hole on the floor, he looked happily to the blank screen. He toyed around with it a little longer, pleased that not a voice or sound came from the machine; dead. Crawling back up into the seat, James nearly bolted from the car when Sebastian's body hit the hood. Panic flooded through his entire system as the alarm started to go off. It took biting hard and breaking the skin of his lower lip to stay silent. Black, panicked eyes washed over the scene, gun in hand before he even realized it. Jumping out of the car would have been a suicide mission and bolting off with it might have been more costly to both car and bloke-on-hood. His mind was racing as he saw something move from the corner of his eye, his first instinct to shoot at it.  

                Sebastian rolled onto his side, bleeding from the face mainly but otherwise, just in a hell of a lot of pain. He groaned as he got up and looked upward at one of the people who pushed him out the window. The man slid off the hood and onto the ground, ears buzzing as the two others rushed out of the front doors. Immediately one was met with the mad end of a bullet- if there ever was anything other than that- by a very stone faced James. The other Sebastian punched in the face before stumbling off to the side. He went down briefly before all sorts of levels of hell broke loose. People were screaming and Sebastian shook his head to clear it. Up on the second floor the third person was snarling now instead of smiling. They pulled out a weapon to shoot at them. James’ within a few shots, took out that person as well. The man fell forward, head first, into the car hood and cracked his skull on the engine block. Blood spilled over the car and Sebastian shook his head once more knowing that could have easily been him. “Get the shit out of the back!” He rasped to James and stumbled to one of the darker allies, head and back throbbing.

                There was no need to be told twice, James reaching back and grabbing as much as he himself could carry. Taking the keys, he was out of the vehicle, pausing only for a moment to look the man on the hood of the car over, taking something from him. With that, he was down the alley, easily catching up to Sebastian. The slighter of the pair eased Sebastian's arm around him and practically dragged him down the paths that connected together. For the downtime that they'd been granted here in the quiet area of Italy, he'd taken a good bit of time to learn about the city. Suddenly, he stopped cold and his eyes practically bugged out of his skull. A groan escaped his mouth as he shoved off what he was carrying onto Sebastian. "I need to go back and get something." 

                Blood was blinding him in one eye so he had to turn his face a full hundred and twenty degrees to look at the man on his right. He took the bags from the moment James had dumped them on him. The extra weight made him half to use the wall for support until he got a good grip. “Must you?!” Sebastian growled softly and glanced around, “Hurry if it’s so damn important! I’ll meet up with you here.” He spat out to the side when red got into his mouth from wherever it was leaking from when they’d hit him with the gun. He was a little disorientated, and unfortunately dependent on James to get them to a safe place. The sniper didn’t know a damn thing about the city except how to get from different places back to the hotel. “Wait, give me your gun and I’ll give you some cover.”

                "Believe me, I must," he snarled back at him, hardly having the patience to deal with all of this at the moment. He was teetering on the edge of a migraine without any of the proper medication to deal with it. Wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last. James handed off his pistol with very little fight, pulling the hood of the borrowed jacket up over his own head. "No. You are going to keep going and not stop until you have a place where you can rest. Having you following me in your current condition is only going to get the pair of us killed and I've come far too fucking far to let that happen," he ordered, voice hardly raised above a whisper. "Do not try to come looking for me if I'm not back punctually, am I understood? I'll be back before long." With that, James did the most reckless thing he could do aside from leaping back into the lion's den; he kissed Sebastian. A smirk on his lips, he didn't give the other enough time to react before he was bolting off in the direction they'd come, head down and gone in the shadows within moments. 

                He was going to argue with him, brutally argue. Even hit him a few times if he didn’t listen. Fucking little piece of loud mouth cocky bitch- His thoughts were cut off immediately and he stood there after he’d gone dumbfounded. “Bastard…” He muttered softly in Irish and stared back at the way he’d ran off. “Fucking bastard…” Sebastian muttered again and kept limping forward. “No you are not understood you little piss-ant, get your skinny ass back here.” He mumbled it, only half meaning the venom in it though. He went on after that, wondering with his hood up and trying to keep the blood from getting into his mouth and nose too much. Head wounds bled a lot more than he liked. There was a public restroom and he stopped inside, checked the stalls before peeling back the blood matted hood and getting whatever paper towels he could to stop the blood. He’d have to be quick. Sebastian used the towels to whip the crimson and darker red from his eyes and cheek bone as fast as he could, the wound would need stitches. The bags that they’d taken had a small medical kit and a bit of thread thankfully. Not long after he’d sown up his temple and put things back where they were as best he could sterilize them with hot water. Sebastian turned back to the mirror, bringing up his hood and sighing softly, “What’s so fucking important you had to leave me again…”

                It was closer to two hours before James returned, arms tight about his torso as he wandered down through the alley, again. It wasn't supposed to have taken this long, but some things couldn't be avoided. The smaller section of town that he entered into was thrumming with people. James kept back and watched for the longest time, observing and waiting. His heart was still racing, side and chest both flaring in pain, but that was something to deal with at another time. Finally, a group large enough to vanish into came strolling by and James took his chance. The group of chattery teens hardly noticed the figure on the circle's edge and the criminal was thankful for that. In and out of the masses, James finally took refuge inside of a public facility, the area fulfilling the majority of the quota that they were looking for. However, upon inspection, the place was desolate, but the blood in the sink and in the waste bin suggested that it hadn't been for too long. Adjusting his load under his jacket, James darted back out of the toilet, taking several moments to sweep the crowd, again, keeping off to the side in an observatory manner. 

                Sebastian had condensed his load as much as possible and traded jackets with another stranger for a less noticeable one. He wondered the general area for a bit, keeping to the edges and the places were the light barely had enough to see ones feet but not their face- no matter how gruesome it seemed to look. Finally he settled into a place near the alley way between two piles of rubbish that thankfully didn’t smell as bad as they looked. He kept his hood up, his bag tight beside him and the small blade he’d pick pocketed off of someone at the ready. Not long after he found his hiding spot, his head started to roll to the side.

                Falling to the wayside when a niche in the wall opened up, James took a moment to observe. The majority of those that bustled by were workers and students, those on their afternoon lunch break. If he paid close enough attention, he could fade in and out of the conversation. Young and old, invisible to all, not a one of them gave much away of interest. Perhaps ten minutes were spent in the alcove before James slipped back out, making slow rounds of the place. Sebastian wouldn't go far, obvious; he wouldn't pick some place noticeable, just as obvious. James made the first round, not really searching, just getting the layout. The second time, he poked his head down corridors and alleys, finally coming to one. Trainers clapped against the wet cement, James coming to a pause, looking into a cavity filled to capacity with rubbish. 

                Inside, a space just large enough for a man to fit into, sat Sebastian Moran. His head was lulled to the side up against the brick walling of the alley way. The side of his face that was visible to James wasn’t nearly as blood as the other side and he seemed to either be passed out or asleep. Either was possible when it came to the sniper. When James moved again, Sebastian immediately pulled the gun and took aim, but not firing. Seeing who it was forced him to put the gun down and he rasped, “Took you long enough.” Remembering what the other had said to him when Sebastian had come back for James.

                "Traffic was hell," he quipped, not even flinching when the gun was brought up to level with him. James offered him something of a crooked smile, reaching in to get at the back that Sebastian had. "Good place to hide, I'll give you that. Might have missed you." Slipping his modified laptop out from under his jacket, James slid the device into the bag before closing it up tight, again. "Think up anything clever while I was gone, or is that job left to me, again?" The smirk didn't hesitate at all, James in a mood that was rather amicable for the amount of things that they'd just been through. That was his way of coping, though, so it was to be expected. 

                Sebastian sighed softly and put the gun away not even bothering to talk to him for a few moments. He sighed softly before picking himself up off the ground slowly. The time in the little crevice had made him stiff and sore. “I found a car to get us out of here. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.” Sebastian finally spoke picking his way out and shouldering the bag. He kept the hood up. “Should I lead the way or do you want to lead the way like everything else?”

                Right. Back to this. "As much as I can obviously see that you want me to, no, please, go ahead," he sighed, gesturing ahead. Still pissed. Course. Not that James had honestly expected anything different. He'd just... James shook his head, letting Sebastian get started before trailing after him. The sooner this damned chip was disabled, the better things would turn out. "Just out of curiosity, where is the chip?"

                He paused in his limp toward the exit of the alley way. “Base of my spine, where the tattoo used to be.” Sebastian continued on after that, choosing to keep silent completely instead of discuss the matter of either object. The sniper looked around outside before heading toward the car he’d found. Honestly he didn’t even know if it would run but with a little mechanical aid it would start. It took no more than four minutes to get there and he wiggled the doorknob until it opened. It was a rusty blue with ripped leather insides. He was about to get into the driver’s seat when James stopped him.

                "Call me a slight paranoid," he began, keeping his grip on the other's arm as he looked the vehicle over. "But this is just some random vehicle you found in the middle of nowhere that you can work and that no one owns? Is it just me, or does that sound just a wee bit suspicious?" Reaching past him, James pulled the knob to lift the bonnet up. Walking over to the front of it, he paused, feeling around on the inside before slowly easing the lid up to look into the inside of the car. It'd been ages since he'd properly dealt with one, but he still remembered the majority of the basics. 

                He rolled his eyes, “I think you’d have to kill me if I didn’t stop to check it for bombs. It’s just a clunker. The old man across the street owns it. Died in his apartment when I tried to find the keys.” Sebastian leaned against it and sighed softly wrapping his hands around the doorknob again and pulling it open. “I didn’t just sit in a pile of garbage for three hours.” He snorted and sat in the driver’s seat with a groan. “Damn…” He muttered pulling his legs in as well.

                Letting the bonnet fall shut with a shiver, James walked back over towards the driver's side and watched as the sniper hauled into the vehicle. Leaning against the door, he watched as he tried to adjust himself in. Any offer to drive in the other's place would most likely be shot down, Sebastian 'capable' of anything, even if he'd just been thrown out of a damned building. The corner of his mouth twitched momentarily. "You're right, I would have," he answered, shrugging. "Ease up if you're starting to hurt too badly." James clapped the side of the vehicle before easing around to the passenger's side, not ready for this drive.   
                 
                He muttered darkly as James went to the other side of the vehicle. Sebastian shook his head and started up the car. The car didn’t turn over until the third time and he gave a brief sigh of relief. The car kicked when he tapped the gas pedal but after a moment he got a feel for it and drove much more smoothly. Sebastian actually obeyed the speed limit this time, choosing to stay where he could control the car. “Where are we headed.” He finally spoke again when they had pulled up to a stop light, breathing shallowly since everything including skin decided it was going to tell him it was bruised.

                Curling into his seat with his legs against his chest, James seemed rather content to stay silent. The man leant into the door, head against the window and vision straight ahead as the other drove on. Lost in his own enigma of thought, it wasn't until the other spoke that he stirred. "Approximately thirty kilometers southeast. Get onto the main road," he instructed, tone bored as he kept his gaze forward and away from the other. 

                Sebastian nodded after a few minutes, keeping up his path for a while. The silence fell between them for several more hours until he saw a sign with one of the few Italian words he knew on it. “Want some food?” He asked, taking the exit regardless if he wanted it or not. The sniper hadn’t move more than he needed to since when they started. Food was a good excuse to adjust.

                The hours spent mainly consisted of James trying to sort out his own thoughts and assemble things back in an attempt at something norm. Those whom to contact and those he couldn't, though, he was quite aware of those that he couldn't, especially given who was chasing after them. Starting up the way he had previously, while simplistic, would take a lot more time. There honestly wasn't much else he could do. It was a fact that was met with equal parts anger and desperation. So much hard work gone to waste. "Hm? Oh. No," he muttered, coming back into reality. 

                “Too bad. You haven’t eaten.” Sebastian replied softly and parked in a space. When stopped he leaned his head back for a few moments before getting out of the car carefully. He was numb all the way up his back and arse. The sun was rising, so breakfast would be being served right about now. Sebastian used the car for support, playing it off like he was waiting on the other to get out of the car before going anywhere. He'd have to use the restroom inside if he wanted to take his hood off. The blood would scare customers.

                Turning his head slowly, he levelled his gaze on Sebastian. Thin lips drew into an even thinner line, eyebrow arched in a skeptical expression. A sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his eyes, not moving from his seat. "You shouldn't be driving. You're in pain; look, I can make blatant observations, too." His eyes swept over the other before slowly reaching down and unbuckling his seatbelt. "I really have no appetite, but I'll eat on the condition that you rest for the next several hours. You're going to fuck up your spinal cord even worse than it is if you don't take a break and get comfortable." Feet hit the ground and James eased out, letting the door fall shut after picking up the bag with his laptop in it. 

                “What do you expect, I fell two stories onto a hot SUV engine. I’m going to be a little rough around the edges for a while.” He glanced at him, still waiting on him to get out of the car. “I never said you couldn’t make observations either.” Sebastian snorted starting to get angry at him again. Conditions now? Oh whatever happened to ‘my way or the highway’ role that James was so good at. He wanted to kick something. Hadn’t they already been over this damn thing? Fighting about the other over something stupid. Deep down, though he’d never admit it to anyone including himself, Sebastian just wanted to quit fighting and let go of the anger. But at the moment, he had the feeling that if he let go of that there wouldn’t be anything left to hold onto. Their relationship had always been that way. Sex. Maybe love from time to time. In the mornings mostly when both were too tired to be angry with each other. Hate. Being an employee at an arms distance. He pushed the thoughts out of his head and sighed softly rubbing the back of his neck in exasperation. What was the best way to do this- was there even one? After all they had been through together… “Just… get some food in you. Please.” He added the last bit with his eyes closed. Just letting fatigue hit him for a moment and just asking the other to do it. No yelling, no threatening, no glares. Just a simple soft tone of want.

                Shouldering the bag, he raised an eyebrow at the other, catching the tone of his voice. The corner of his lips twitched, but the common-place expression died out at the other's request. More than anything, James looked startled. He prided himself on being able to read Sebastian on being able to tell what was and wasn't reliable about his character. He was strong, stubborn, a good-worker when the price was good enough, and he was loyal, even if he himself thought that he wavered--three years' absence and he'd come along, even if he was begrudging the affair. That plea wasn't something he expected, however, and that fact was quite evident on his face. He swallowed past his hesitation, huffing out a "fine" before leading in, trying not to give way to his own surprise or let the other's sudden change in demeanor affect him. "Come on," he muttered, tugging the door open.     

                Sebastian followed him, just finally glad that James’ had actually agreed to something for once. He took a seat since the sign told them to and he leaned his head back on the cushion. A waiter came by, told them about the specials and dropped off the menus, asking what they wanted to drink as well. Sebastian ordered coffee completely black with espresso if they had it.

                "Tea. Hot. Or whatever muck you have that's the equivalent," he ordered, taking his seat, bag close beside his leg. To be honest, he was a little on-edge to be inside of a restaurant. The last couple of times that they'd been in one hadn't exactly ended in their best favour. He was on edge despite his own efforts to calm himself down. Spidery fingers tapped against his thigh, pounding out something familiar as he let his gaze wander over the crowd around them. 

                Sebastian heard the tone in his voice and the waiter immediately walked away. He knew that no one had followed them but kept an ear out regardless. The chatter of other patrons thankfully wasn’t loud and he found himself slowly falling to the side but kept himself upright a pale hand on the table. He remembered that he needed to use the bathroom to wash off and got up, eyes heavily lidded.

                The criminal only glanced up when Sebastian moved, dismissing it after a moment ("Try not to pass out in there."). At this rate, it almost would be a miracle if the pair of them made it through this; it'd be a stronger miracle if... James shook his head, dropping his head, fingers pressing small, tight circles against his temple as he tried to force himself back into a relaxed state. Tea would help. Maybe. 

                It only took him a few minutes to wash off the blood on his face and hands. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head, chuckling softly at what he looked like. Maybe he should leave. Or… He sighed softly and rested his forehead on the mirror a minute more before returning to their table. The stitching was very noticeable but at least it was holding up so far. He sat in the exact same place and thankfully the coffee was there already.

                It took a few moments to properly doctor up his tea, but, by the time he finished, it was mostly palatable. Both hands cupped around it, James seemingly more relaxed. It felt like the worst stereotype in the world, but tea did have a quasi-calming effect. That or he was psyching himself out. James took another sip. Both were quite plausible. Looking up, he gave a slight nod to Sebastian when he returned. Gaze away, it snapped back to him after a moment. James set his tea down, leaning across the table as a warm hand held Sebastian's hair back to examine the stitching. Teeth weathered into his bottom lip, examining it for a moment longer. "Be careful with that. It can break under too much stress."

                Why do you send so many mixed signals? He sighed and stayed still as James touched him with gentle fingers. Sebastian didn’t say anything at first and closed his eyes. “It’ll last. It’s held up this long.” The sniper reopened his eyes when James withdrew his hand. “I can handle it.”

                A humored expression crossed his eyes, catching something in the other's gaze before sobering up once more. "It's not a matter whether or not you can handle it, but whether or not stress will make the wound worse," he replied, picking up his tea, again, sipping at the beverage with as much of a pleased expression as he could muster. "That doesn't give the way that the material we used to stitch you up previously does. It also absorbs more readily. Just be careful with it."

                He nodded, not bothering to argue anymore. Sebastian drank out of the coffee cup before holding it up toward the waiter. The young man nodded and refilled it immediately before going off to help other customers. Sebastian leaned back again and shut his eyes, listening and thinking about what the hell he was going to do with this… situation? No that wasn’t a proper term.

                He let the silence go without a problem, gaze out the window as he continued to nurse his tea. They had a lot to do, still, and would have  a lot to do until Sebastian's chip was deactivated. It had to be there, too. James inwardly cringed. Couldn't be a place simple enough to perform a surgery on without permanently fucking him up. As adventurous as he considered himself... His lips pulled together into a frown, expression thoughtful as he let his gaze linger on Sebastian for a moment. "We could jam it."

                Immediately he knew what he was talking about. “Just take it out of me.” He muttered drinking out of the cup. Sebastian locked his gaze with James. “Jamming it would cause it to break. It’ll send an electrical shock through my system. The military added that in case we were captured by someone else- especially since I did operations that if I got captured I would have been better off dead. It would get rid of the idea of us spilling the beans on ‘our’ country.”

                Well, there went that. James visibly cringed, not quite fond of either outcome. "I can't remove it," he stated firmly. "I'd most likely just turn you into paraplegic. The fact that it's been in imbedded in there for several years in addition to that fact that I hardly have any of the necessary equipment; it'd be an absolute suicide run. You'd be safer in the hands of Typhoid Mary." As much as he hated to admit that--and he did--that was the truth. While his medical knowledge certainly did span a vast amount of things, he was rather at a loss without proper equipment for some things.

                "If you really believe that, then its best we split up." He said simply, already knowing the outcome of what James had said. "Before you argue... You know that they are following us now. Its best to split up until we get to the ship or... I'll just make my own way after that. It's the best idea we have. If I stay with you, you'll be held down and I'm already injured. I'm a liability." Sebastian leveled his gaze and took one last sip of the coffee.

                 
                His nails tapped against the table once in rapid succession, James setting his tea down, but not looking up at the other. "For someone who gave me hell for leaving, you've been rather nonchalant about it for the past several weeks." He skated his fingers over the rim of his cup, still not giving the other the benefit of looking at him. "If we split up, one of us or both of us are going to end up dead. You're attached to me. Short of facial reconstruction, and that would be a pity, they'll take any assumption that you're still with me. Besides, you said it yourself; you're injured. You're a liability. If we take separate paths, you won't see me, again. Not that you're too bothered by that, I can tell." 

                He paused before speaking again. "I've been distant because I don't know where I stand with you anymore. One second I'm your employee and lap dog. Then next I'm your friend with benefits. The next I'm your boyfriend. One second you're telling me to fuck off and then you're kissing me. With the chip, my injuries and everything else, I'm better off gone." He shrugged one shoulder, his heart was hurting again. He looked down at his coffee cup. "One of us dead is better than both. I'd rather it be me that you. If I leave then you won't have anything tracking you. You've survived this long without me."

  
                There was another pause, James' shoulders shaking silently. "I'm a raging psychopath. I'm nearly insulted that you expect me to keep up a normal relationship with anyone, much less you." His smile was sarcastic as he finally chanced a glance up at the other, far from apologetic. "What do you want me to say? 'You're not my employee'? Because no matter what other position you take up, you still fall under that category. If we're honest, you owe me _at least_  that much. I picked you up out of hell and gave you something to live for, again--that's not cocky, you've said it to me yourself. And you certainly didn't complain about sleeping with the boss when it happened. I certainly haven't minded it. Granted, it's taken on different meanings over the years. Was a bit of a powerplay at first--kept you away from clients." He shrugged. "As for _that_ last bit, I definitely won't lie and say that it was of my own intention. I have absolutely no intention to gather any feelings for you. Call it an unfortunate side-effect. It does make you a liability, even, as you can see, I've followed you the hell out here and nearly gotten myself killed." He leant his head back, sighing. "On the flipside of that, insert some sappy phrase--I'd rather be here or some shit like that--and you can deal with that. Yeah? Want to know where you stand? Bit of everyplace. Employee, fuck-buddy, partner, because that makes me feel less like a primary school girl. I just choose whichever one better fits the moment when I need it. If you're fucking acting like an arse and trying to play suicidal, yes, I'm going to be your boss because you certainly won't listen to me as anyone else." 

                Sebastian stared at him for a few moments, listening to every word that fell from James pale lips. "I'm not trying to play suicidal I'm trying to keep you safe. Which I don't need to remind that that is my job since you're now my employer again." He sighed softly and got up from the table tossing a couple bills on the plate. "I'll see you around."

  
                Reaching out, he grasped the other's arm for a moment. James didn't look at him, utterly silent and void from what was going on in his own head. The other's pulse filled through his own fingertips, a feeling that made the other almost nauseas. He didn't speak for awhile, not even sure what he himself wanted to say. Or, rather, what he wanted to be heard by anyone else saying. _Stay. Sit your fucking arse back down. What the hell is wrong with you? What part your impossibly small mind thinks I want you to go?_ "Yeah. Be safe." James let his grip loosen. "Please." 

 

                Sebastian had never heard those soft words come out of his mouth before. His hand lingered as well, feeling the pulse quicken underneath his own. He held on a little longer than he should have  
before nodding. "Of course. You stay safe too." When he let go, things didn't feel nearly as they should have been. In one instance he was relieved and in another he was depressed. Sebastian left out the front door, pulling his hood up and going around the side of the building. Disappearing from sight in a shadow.

 

                James finished up his tea quickly, food neglected, again, as he tossed down enough to pay. Stepping out of the diner, he was surprised to see the hunk of metal still sitting there. "Bastard." James piled up into it with ease, starting her up and after several attempts. The vehicle volleyed back and forth for a minute, deciding whether or not it wanted to accept the work of the engine. After awhile, everything seemed just fine, James backed out and started out, not sure to where he himself was headed. 

   
                Sebastian didn't bother with a car at first and headed northward. He still planned to get the dogtags. Otherwise he'd be tracked for the rest of his life. But... He'd make his own way. Hopefully, if things went alright, he'd either find a way to get rid of the chip completely or he'd break the tags. That was his plan. If one could call it that. Stealing yet another car, he headed down an opposite road waiting for his heart to stop hurting though- he'd know that it wouldn't.

   
                It was early the next morning when James came to a stop further North than they had been previously, mind still numb. Every so often, he'd look to his passenger side to say something, wince, then remember that, _yes_ , he was again alone. While he wasn't quite sure where he'd ended up to fuel up, the place was quieter and a good bit smaller. Small towns, for all of their lackings and problems, were a good place to hide. That is, if you weren't sticking out like a sore thumb--James pulled tucked his head down and pulled his jacket tighter around himself--which was why he kept going. Again, he didn't come to a stop until he was nearly half-way to Venice. 


	12. Chapter 12

It took a damn long time in his opinion to get back to the ship. And just how James had predicted, it was crawling with cops. They pulled countless body bags off the ship and Sebastian had to pause to shake his head. Recon would be difficult from where he was on a rooftop. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen James. His back had lessened bruising and his stomach was almost completely healed. The cut on his head had gotten infected and he’d gotten a few more scars along the way. A lot of people were tracking him now so his trail was nearly become invisible. He did… unfortunately, break down and left marks incase James ever came in this direction again. A small, cat head shaped, black cut in a random brick or floor. It wasn’t something that many people would look at since it was so randomized and tiny. Sebastian considered his options from his perch. The cops hadn’t taken the luggage off the ship yet. Apparently the bodies were enough to work with for now to bother with luggage at the moment. He’d sneak in, break into their- his, room and get what he needed and get out. Then, by some chance, he’d find James again. A cigarette hung from his lips as he looked down at the group of people. He’d go tonight. Kill anyone got in his way.

 

                His clients had said it well when they liked the Criminal Mastermind to a disease. Despite his precedents and his taste for perfection, he was the kind of person that, when he tried, could manage anywhere. These weeks had been spent well--solitude forcing him to work like he hadn't in the past few years. It wasn't quite a permanent thing, James spending more time just trying to figure it all back out. By the time he'd gone through it all, he had what he'd considered a brilliant plan. Somehow, however, that brilliant plan had landed him in the middle of a cruise harbour. It'd been an interesting week or so, tracking the damned bastard all the way out here. Sure, he knew where he was going, but the signs were more or less a help to make sure that, yes, the other was still alive and had the tendency to remember that James was, too. Off to the side, he watched from the South end with a bunch of others as government workers and local officials swarmed the boat. 

  
                As an extra measure, Sebastian had dyed his hair brown to blend in better and used a hell of a lot of makeup to hide some of his more pronounced scars on his neck. A new addition had been given to him by a bitch he’d ran into a few days after he’d left James. Women always aimed for the face or for the balls and thankfully it had been the first of the two. There was a scar reaching from the inner corner of his eye and reached down past his jaw to his neck. He briefly trailed his fingers down it and sighed softly. Sebastian pulled himself off the rooftop, straightened his hood and left down the fire escape. The sun was setting so he’d break in tonight and headed back to his little cavern in the back of another car he stole. Hotels just didn’t work for him.

  
                Escaping from the crowd, James kept his head down and hands tucked into his pocket. Owning only a quick glance, he didn't look any different than the average tourist. Hair clapped under a ruddy excuse for a cap, he kept a close perimeter around the edge. Four hours spent mulling in different areas, there wasn't exactly a clean break. However, there was a spot tucked back behind the cargo crates that James had noticed one of the perimeter men frequented; a younger officer, always so nervous and glancing over his shoulder. James took his place there, out of view from everyone save the rookie. He strolled up with a casual gait, but the anxiety was evident in his face. An order for James to leave was barked out, James not moving. The man came closer, repeating it. Finally, he clapped a hand on James' shoulder, spinning him around. Immediately, the officer was met with a bitter aerosol spray to the face, coughing and spluttering for a moment before James crashed his elbow against the man's face and he collapsed to the ground.   
  
                Sebastian heard something similar to coughing. He knew cops were around and immediately changed direction. What if- His mind went ahead of himself and walked away quickly. His plan would have to go faster into motion and headed toward the ship. The sun was still going down fast and he headed toward a good hiding place until the cops cleared a bit. The moment the sun hit the ocean and the cops took a break. He was slinking in the shadows toward the liner. It didn’t take too much to get on- only took a bit to find the room. He passed the place where he’d been stabbed and paused to wipe the blood away and headed toward the rooms.

  
                A man in dark blue uniform slipped from the darkened space, walking around like he knew exactly his place. To the average eye, not would have changed; if one peered closely, however, they'd notice the narrow shoulders pushed into the broadened shirt. He mingled past the groups of cops, nodding his head and muttering a short, Italian phrase. No one suspected a thing. A sharp cry came out from one of the officers for someone to do rounds on the ship. Rising up a gloved hand, the officer was sent into the ship. All was quiet, save the occasional groan of cold metal in a warm harbor. He moved easily through the rooms, up to the third floor and down the rooms, slowly, keeping an eye on the rooms with a hand pressed to the borrowed pistol.

                Sebastian was kneeling on the floor when he heard the doorknob twist open. Most of the things he needed was packed away and James’ cross was in his hand with the dogtags. They were together inside the drawer with the bible. Ironic really, a master criminal who would skim through a bible from time to time and had a cross. Sebastian knew the other wasn’t really religious but had never thought it his place to find out where the cross was from.  He pocketed the two pieces and brought out a thin metal wire. The lights were off in the room and the only source being in from the hallway. From the shadow it was cop. He’d made sure the lights couldn’t come on when he had first entered and had the wire posed to wrap around the other’s throat from his position just inside. He was concealed well and held his breath, heart hammering like it always did just before a kill.

                James first began to feel a bit anxious when he noticed that the door was shut. It was the only one on the floor and James could imagine why. Carnage tended to reek if encased in a warm room; the windows were all opened, as were the doors to let a breeze in and out. It might have been the accident of an officer, but even they weren't that stupid and the fact that it was that room... The smell still wasn't quite daisies and roses, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. James curled his fingers around the handle, petting the piece move enough to be pushed open. Gun in one hand, torch in the other, James kicked the door open, eyes scanning over the place rapidly for the other party that he was dealing with. 

                Whoever it was moved forward and Sebastian counted in his head until the man was almost on top of him. He sprung his hiding place, so much like a tiger it was laughable. The wire came around the unknown man’s throat and the gun was thrown from the grasp with a power movement. Sebastian felt the man headbutt him in the nose since he was smaller. It slackened his grip an instant and the small broke free. He let out a snarl as the flashlight rolled away.

                It all happened so quickly, James rather caught off. His heart was racing, throat burning as he came back to his senses and slunk into the shadowed side of the room. He couldn't see nearly as well as the other, sense dulled by the bright light. Blood pounded beats of rhythm like an ancient tribal drum, James waiting for a few moments to take in his own attack as adrenaline coursed through his body and dulled his usually impeccable sense of surrounding. Yes, he knew the attacker and the attack itself was familiar and... James ran a gloved hand back through his hair, hat knocked off in the fray. A quick intake of breath was gathered, James wielding the nightstick in one hand, the other keeping a steady hold over his switchblade. "Come on," taunted James, tone breathy and quiet as he continued to size-up his attacked. "Come out, come out." 

                Sebastian was temporarily blinded from when he’d been hit and gotten a irse full of light from the hallway. He carefully went around the room, trying to get behind the other again. The voice sounding oddly familiar to him though he couldn’t place it right off the bat. He lounged forward, taking the knife from him and slamming his elbow into the other’s face. The knife was thrown into the wall and he earned a very well placed kick to the balls. He grimaced and backed off for a minute and the cop when after him again. He was punched in the face and he snarled once again before grabbed the gun from the back of his pants. It was a small handgun he’d stole from one of the cops outside when he’d gotten information way earlier in the week. The shorter male had gotten the gun from the floor and they fired. Sebastian aiming for the face, execution style and cop aiming for the heart. The height difference saved their lives then. The bullets hit each other but the flash of the mussel offered just enough light to see who each other were.

                The lunge wasn't unexpected, James quite ready for that, but not for the switchblade to go clattering across the floor. James made a dive, ready to bite at whatever came close enough--juvenile, but effective. The pain acted as a stimulant, however, legs carrying out well-managed jabs, hitting home with one painful sounding grunt from the man followed by the heel of his hand hitting some part of his face. The victory was far too short-lived as the air was knocked from his lungs, thrown back onto the floor. No time taken to lick his wounds, he curled back into the dark, hand curling around the butt of a gun--his borrowed one inspection. After that, it was blind motion. James heard his own gun go off, saw the flash of both guns, and was thankful to whatever deity cared to claim it that it'd missed. "Fucking bastard."

                “Me? You were the one-!” His growl was cut off by the sound of the police rushing back on the boat thanks to their gun shots. “Well fuck!” He hissed and pulled James’ to his feet before opening the window. The sound of boots were pounding their way down the hallway and he threw whatever he was left into a bag. “Out the window!” It was a straight drop to the ocean but at least they’d not be arrested. He grabbed the hot bullet casing  and tossed it out the window before gesturing for him to go. There was still evidence of who they were so… best option. He shot the sprinkle in the main room as James headed out the window.

                There was obviously no need for James to be told twice, doing his best to shrug off what was the heaviest. Down to what he was positive wouldn't be his last attire, James bolted out the double doors. There was a moment's hesitation before James caught his breath and took the leap down off of the side of the side. The rush of air past his ears made his heart pound and it took concentration not to suck in air the moment that he hit the water. His body floated freely for a moment, giving it a moment before he came back up for air, then back under the water to keep from the watching eye of the officers.

                He threw the rifle, the bag of money, and put the cross and dogtags around his neck so he would lose them before jumping out as well. Sebastian was a lot less graceful than James was and went underneath the water before coming up again. He passed the other backpack to James now he could float with it before taking the guitar and strapping it around him. This was the last time he would ever be in this ocean, he swore it. The cops yelled loudly from up on the ship and aimed the flashlight down. Sebastian dragged them both underneath the water and made a pointing gestured toward the shore.

                The trade-off was as easy as two people trading items in a murky bay could possibly be. All the same, James took the bag and nodded his head as best as he could. No argument came from the other, helping Sebastian drag the pair of them under the waves. The water grew colder the further down they submerged, the initial chill refreshing in opposition to the heat on the ship. Keeping his hold still on the other, James used his other arm and legs to help propel them away from where the angry cops and the ghost ship were docked. 

                The hold was shared as they propelled themselves through the water. A while later, they surfaced and pulled themselves onto a beach. They hadn’t spoken since the swearing at each other inside the room so it was mainly silent as they caught their breath together on the sand. Still sitting there, Sebastian pulled off the dogtags and the cross before placing them gently into the other’s hand. His head turned back to the ship where the cops were just now sending people to look in the water around the ship. “Morons.”

                His entire chest was burning as he finally came up for air. Everything about them on the twilight beach was spinning a bit. James barely made it a couple of meters before collapsing onto the sand. Chest heaving, it took a long while to get his eyes to focus. When they did and he didn't feel as if his very heart were going to pitch itself from his chest, he offered a slight laugh, wiggling his fingers and feeling the chains in his hands. Slowly, he sat up, looking down to the other. "What can I say? Italian police aren't too useful," he panted, grinning as he eased both the crucifix and the dog-tags around his neck. 

                “No wonder so many people go free.” Sebastian made a sigh that could have confused as a laugh or a cough. He finally pulled the hood off and looked at James full in the face. “What made you come?” The sniper asked him, “You knew I was going this way… so what made you follow me?” His now brown hair hung in his face, being long and messy instead of the clean cut military it used to be. His eyes fell to the dogtags and cross.

                James smiled, craning his head back and forth, relaxing when he heard a familiar and releasing 'pop'. "Hm? Oh. Well, you know me. I can't survive a minute without putting my own life in jeopardy. It was far too boring having everything be normal for too long." James smirked at the other, relaxed for the first time in several weeks. "Besides, I had a score to settle with a former acquaintance out this way. Don't go thinking it was in your best interest that I came after you." His expression said otherwise. His acquaintance had been met with and taken care of some previous hundred kilometers south. "Didn't think you'd actually go after my cross, too." 

                The smirk was reassuring almost. Sebastian pulled one leg up to his chest and chuckled. “Normal was never a word in the dictionary of describing words for you.” His eyebrows rose at the mention of an old acquaintance and he turned his face back to him. James’ didn’t seem to be too honest when he uttered the last part about not coming after him too. “It was important to you. So it’s important to me to see it returned.” Sebastian was never one to beat around the bush for things. He didn’t play cat in mouse. He said what he intended- usually.

                "You're a true charmer," he chuckled, the words akin to flattery in his mind. Ordinary, normal, average; dull. If anything, James found it the worst of insults to be considered anything like the rest of human kind. He was a psychopath and he wore that title with the highest pride. Most of the time. "Client," he replied simply, not even looking at Sebastian or his questioning look. "Well, former client, I suppose." Raising a hand up, he brought his thumb against the roughened, gold metal, happy to have that familiar touch back, again. "Thank you. It is very important." 

                “I try.” He shrugged, happy to sit there with the other. Sebastian lay back and stared up at the sky. There they were again. Somehow they seemed to always get thrown together sitting on a damn beach licking wounds. “So… Do I have to write up a resume or flatter you some more?” He glanced at the other seeing the look of brief confusion. “I’m asking for my job back. My job is you. So… I’m asking for you back- or for you to take me back- if it’ll help your pride.”

                The bewildered look melted into a smile and James did his best to bite it back. "Well, I suppose that all depends on how I'm feeling. I could still be very annoyed that you left me to my own in a damned diner in the middle of nowhere," he muttered, rolling his eyes with a huff. "But I suppose that wouldn't very-well be me if I was still so angry about that after receiving such heart-felt words." There was a tone of sarcasm in his voice as he got to his feet, dusting himself off. "Come on, tiger." 

                Sebastian liked that look, even if James didn’t do it often. “I know that you’re ruled by your feelings- even for being such a non-emotional man.” He picked himself up as well, “By the way… I should probably tell you that the chip is no longer in my spine.” He shrugged his shoulders following him with the guitar strapped on his back. “When I got thrown out that window and landed on the hood it caused it to break in half. I found out a couple days ago when a guy cut it out of me.”

                "I don't like them, doesn't mean that I don't have them," he argued, letting Sebastian fall into step beside him as he lead up to where he assumed the road would be. Finding the car, again, would be a living nightmare. At least he'd been smart enough to not bring the keys with him and lock them in the car; thank the man who created dial-locks. "Wait, you're serious? Then, how did... And...?" He sighed heavily through his nose before wincing, coming to mind about the second-half of his sentence. "You just got beat to shit, didn't you? Was that voluntary or... otherwise?" 

                “When you have three nations after you, getting the shit beat out of you when they ask where your boss is a holiday.” He shrugged again, “It wasn’t that bad. They gave me a few marks to throw off police. I’m rather proud.” Sebastian turned his head now the other could see the scar running from his eye to the neck area. “The dog-tags are… well just sentimental now, I suppose. Though I didn’t get it cut out of me because of that.” He looked down at his feet, shifting. “I… I was tired and I would have cut it out myself if I could have reached it. The guy cut it out with a fish knife on a boat so I can’t really complain. We should find a place to stay before cops start growing brains.”

                James was listening, that much obvious by the attentive look on his face. Gently, his thumb came across the mark on Sebastian's face, tracing it from beginning to end. "Is it wrong to admit I'm disappointed it's not mine." James always held such a morbid fascination with the mark on Sebastian's body. He had such a history, James at one point or another able to rattle off each of them from the stories he heard. Now, he wasn't sure how many of them remained, a brutal many desecrated with the tattoo. "I suppose they are," he mumbled, starting to walk after a moment. He winced at the mention of the means which it'd been extracted. A pale hand reached behind Sebastian, pressing his fingers gentle along the raised skin. "It's safe to assume that you haven't been looking after it, then. There's bound to be a load of places outside of town to stay in for the night. Tomorrow, we can head back." 

                “I’ll be a bitch and admit I was never one for medical work. The cut on my forehead got infected but the salt water should help.” He shrugged, becoming very still at the touch to his skin. Blue eyes met darkened black again. “I don’t think I would mind if you wanted to put a few more on me. I’m already starting to look like a roadmap.” With the burns, cuts and bruises on him… well. He did have a striking resemblance to one. Sebastian followed and nearly bolted when the hand touched the raw and badly stitched skin. He hissed through his teeth and arched away from the fingers that set a fire burning there. “I can’t reach it or I would have.” Sebastian only nodded at the rest of the sentence.

                "Which, I suppose, is the benefit of having me around, the man who gets some of his kicks from medical," he joked. James enjoyed the look that encompassed Sebastian's face when he laid a gentle touch on the scar. He liked what he said even more, though. A twisted smile pulled at his lips, but vanished at the outburst from the other. Withdrawing his hand, he made a note as they came to the road. The buildings were familiar, more or less, and James started back in the direction of the port. "You're going to let me gave a look at it, then," he decided, not budging on that. "If it gets infected, you could screw your back up." 

                “Being the bitch again I’ll say it’s bigger than just benefit.” Sebastian almost walked on tiptoes for a minute before the breeze off the ocean cooled the flames on his back. Even minor touch hurt so it was more than likely infected already. “Whatever floats your boat, boss.” He muttered combing his fingers through his hair now he could at least not be bothered with it following into his eyes. “It’s already messed up so there isn’t much else you can do about it. Unless you’ve got some magical powers I don’t know about.” He was a lot more talkative than he used to be, but being silent and speaking in another broken language for so long- the first person who you knew got their ear talked off.

                "Well, I'm glad that my services are appreciated," he admitted, shifting the back on his shoulder once more. It was nice out. He'd come to learn that quickly about Italy, that despite the brutal days, they did have some rather nice nights. It was far more charitable, most nights, then to open up the doors and let the breeze in. Granted, where he'd been, the breeze didn't smell nearly as nice as it did in these parts. "Alright, then to keep you from fucking it up further." James smirked at him. "Better?" To be honest, he didn't mind the conversation. He'd missed it. 

                He followed him not knowing where they were going in the slightest. He hurried to keep up pace with him. Sebastian smiled softly at the idea of his services but didn’t comment. “It’s fine. Just a little painful.” Again he shivered a little. “Better? About what?”

                For all the kindness that he was showing Sebastian, he didn't slow he walk. Truth be told, he was freezing in the wet, stolen clothes and the sea air, as thankful as he was for it, wasn't helping much in that regard. "I doubt you've been resting any," he supplied, though he certainly wouldn't have expected him to in the time apart. "What have you been doing, then?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you're certainly on better speaking terms with me since last we spoke. I'm assuming you feel better about your... certainty." James kept his gaze forward, the ports and fisherman shacks growing more frequent. 

                He kept up a good pace regardless and headed forward still. They were both shivering hard the more they were exposed to the cool air. “What is sleep?” He tried to joke and caught the look James shot at him. “No, I haven’t. I’ve either been tracking, being tracked, killing or trying to be killed. Got captured twice. Limited our opposition quite a bit. Got the tattoo redone in my down time, just in a different location since the scar tissue can’t hold any ink anymore.” He muttered glancing around to see if they were being followed. Sebastian lowered his head, like a cat did when it was in trouble. “I did a lot of thinking besides all that. I don’t owe you a damn thing anymore. We’ve been through a lot- death, kidnapping, fake death, running away from our problems…” He sighed and kept up the pace. “My certainty wasn’t the problem… I’ve always been certain. I love you and that isn’t going to change. No matter how much I want to snap your neck from time to time.” Sebastian slowed a bit and let out a breath. “And when it comes to me being your employee or your lover or whatever the hell I am.” He shrugged, “In…In the end I want to be with you. Whatever the hell I am.” He was opening himself up to be shot down. Hell he was waiting for the gun to be shoved into his mouth and James to kick him in the balls. “I mean- who else would I let kick me in the balls.”

                He listened with an interested look on his face, taking hold of Sebastian's sleeve to steer him down one of the streets before dropping his hand back down, again. His reactions were minimal: throwing Sebastian a stern look at the sleep comment, chuckling at the parallelism in his list, then raising his eyebrows at the comment about the tattoo. A part of him felt... pride? Yeah. It'd been James' nickname that had put it on him in the first place, one of the many marks that had identified Sebastian's as James' property and pet. The past several years had been brutal on his lay-to-claim, but it was coming back. Well, if getting new ink said anything. But Sebastian's sudden heart-to-heart caught him up fast. He listened, biting back his own reply until the other came to a stop in his words. James did his best to remain serious--though he couldn't help the snort at his last bit. "Eloquent as always, tiger." James kept walking for awhile, attempting to formulate his own thoughts in coherent sentences. "Certainly more than the average... relationship goes through. And, I'll admit, I'd be a little disappointed if you didn't get mad at me every once in awhile. You were definitely the first person to give me any grief for something I did. You tried to present yourself as an equal before I even considered it." Running a hand back through his hair, he sighed. "Having you around, permanently, isn't a bad thing. I'd like it. A lot. I've said it to you before, not far from here, actually, that I do give a damn what happens to you." He fell silent for a moment, careful with the words as he spoke. "You're my partner more than you've been my employee, especially the past couple of months." He looked a little pained for a moment, cracking a smile at the pavement. "In both connotations, honestly. Came back to the hotel and the damned clerk asked me if we had a 'ruction'." 

                Sebastian stared at him for a moment, not knowing what to say. He smiled at him and decided that he would take chances as well. The sniper went forward and kissed him as gently as he could before pulling back. “Okay. Well. We need to get dry.” James didn’t have to say anything else. Just to be acknowledged as that he was James’ and not just some sort of throw away toy… that was enough for him. “I’m surprised he even cared with as much damage we did to that room.” He pulled away, calmer than he had been in a long while.  
  
                There wasn't any form of dispute given when Sebastian leant forward to kiss him. It was missed, dually so, and the salt-soaked taste brought a smile to his own lips as the other pulled back. "There might be towels in my car. If not, there's bound to be some at a shack-up in the area." James turned down another street, relieved at the sight of the silver four-door. It wasn't much, but it was currently better than hijacking cars all over the greater Northern Italy counties. "We paid in cash; I think he forgave us," he laughed, tapping in the seven-digit code before opening it and taking the keys from the console. Unlocking the trunk, he went to the back, lifting it up and handing him a towel before throwing the knapsack into the back. "Toss it all in."

                He came to the back and gave the car a better look. Sebastian took off the guitar and put it in the back. Lastly he started to empty his pockets. Small explosives, knifes, small guns, a stick of dynamite that looked homemade, multiple bullets, a couple pictures with ‘x’s on them and a wanted poster. Sebastian looked up at James, “What- I had to burn down a couple buildings so it was needed.” Sebastian leaned back up.

                "Damn." James got to laughing at the sight, shaking his head with a bemused look on his face. Shutting the lid of his trunk, he didn't bother to wipe the bemused look off of his face. "No, you just certainly know how to start up a party." James patted the other's cheek, still laughing as he went around to the driver's side. Slipping into the seat, he started the engine up and turned on the heater. "Going to be able to sit, tiger?" 

                “Uh…” He muttered looking at the seat. “If I scoot down and use the crease I might be able to sit fine. Got a pillow?-“ Sebastian broke down laughing. “Sitting on a pillow. First time I’ve ever heard myself saying that one.” He adjusted the seat and gingerly sat down before hissing and leaning forward. “Alright, this will work.” Sebastian propped his head on the front consol. “Last time I trust an angry fisherman with a scalpel and vodka.”

                The criminal watched the entire spectacle with the most amused expression on his face. The car was heating up and, as far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world. The twisting and hissing and snarling earned a noise of amusement from James until Sebastian flopped forward like a maltreated corpse. "I could have told you that," he muttered. Long fingers took root on either side of the sniper's neck, rolling the muscles in small circles before withdrawing his hand. "Why don't you lay out in the backseat? Might be a bit easier to manage and look less like I'm carrying a murdered passenger."

                “It was better than getting electrocuted every time I touched something electric.” He rolled his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Well we were sort of in a row with each other three days ago. Besides, he looked like Captain Gorton- you know, the guy who makes fish sticks.” Sebastian was trying his best to be upbeat besides having the little sitting problem. It was embarrassing for a highly trained beat up assassin to not be able to sit in a damn car. “I’d rather be in front. Last time I was in a backseat I had to semi-automatics pressed into my ribs and a transvestite chain smoker in front of me.” Unfortunately, that had actually happened. He scooted down in the seat and used where the two cushions met a ninety degree angle. “This will work.”

                Giving in to the other's request, James put the car into drive and took off from the quieted city. Compared to the other cars that they'd nicked, this one was a beauty. James had bought her for a reasonable price; they always looked upon cash with something of a sort heart. Even lower price in cash was worth more than higher in credit when cash was tangible. "So that makes him credible?" He did his best to not sound too amused, skating over the part previous. Yeah, he understood that. "I'm amazed you can walk, to be honest. The spinal chord is such a delicate area to operate in." He didn't let his eyes fasten on the other, but there certainly was a notable raise of eyebrow at the detailed scenario. James snorted. "Poor tiger," he chuckled, tone laced with sickly sympathy. "You've had a rough go at it, it seems." 

                “It was more that I was pissing blood, walking around drunk to dull it and went to the nearest guy with a knife. I wasn’t checking his walls for doctorates, sorry.” He muttered sarcastically from where he was stretched out. “I’ve been through a lot worse.” Sebastian shrugged one shoulder at the amazement of him still being able to walk around still. This is what he did for a living. Plus he had more important things to worry about. He shot him a glare from the other seat, “Don’t be an arse. I did what I had to.” He picked up on the tone of voice he used and he didn’t like being babied by any means- even if it did hurt like a bitch.

                "I don't doubt that you did," he admitted, tone sobering up to something more believable. "Pardon me if my worry for you seems ill-reasoned." James didn't take his eyes off of the road as he drove, not bothering to even look at places to stay until they were a feasible ten miles from the scene of the crime. "Not sure if I have pain medication on me. You might have to wait for that one until the next morning, unless you're keen to raid what bar there might be." Despite the sarcastic penchant for statements like that, he was quite serious. "Especially as cleaning it's going to hurt like hell."

                “Don’t worry about messing with it tonight. We’re both tired and I just sleep on my stomach anyway. Won’t matter.” He kept his position, staring at the clock on the dashboard with little interest. “Your worry is appreciated when it’s not sarcastic, boss.” Sebastian glanced up at him, a little curl to his lips. “No raiding bars. I’m pretty sure I’ve given up drinking- at least until we’re settled into a place.”

                "I'm awake," he countered, tone surprisingly patient with the other. "I can go for a week solid without sleep. Besides, the sooner you're cleaned up, the better I'll feel about this." James rolled his eyes, trying to feign being annoyed at such a comment from the other. "Dont get too used to it, tiger, as I've a reputation that must be maintained." He stumbled out a laugh against his own will, crumbling in futile against his own restraint. "Hm? Actually, I bought a place. So, we're somewhat settled? It's a good few hour drive and further south than we were previously, but it's nice." 

                He was a little saddened by the fact that he didn’t get to help pick the place out but it wasn’t like he really could say anything. He was the one who left. Sebastian did like the fact that he finally got the other to laugh. “Better you’ll feel about what?” He raised his eyebrows. “Still, I’d rather hold off on the drinking until at least we’re there. I’ve learned my lesson about drinking and driving.”

                "It's similar to the other one," he began, as if reading the other's thoughts. "But I put it further away from there, given the fact we had such lovely house-guests in that neighborhoods." Sebastian's question brought a rueful smile to his lips, rolling his eyes as he came off of the main road and into a small city. Hotels and motels dotted the street, all of their signs in neon Italian with a few in pastel English. "Your ability to move. You have a knife, most likely unsterilized, shoved into you back and some bloke rooting around in it. It's been a long time since I was in medical school, but that makes me cringe." James cast a slight look to him as he came to a stop before a light. "Good. I'd hate to think you had to be taught that one." 

                “Oh… that’s good. I mean, I’d hate to have to walk up and down stairs. First floor with some space to catch the random straggler to torture would be fun on weekends.” He mumbled, still being more talkative than usual. Sebastian shifted, felt pain, then shifted back. “I’ll be fine. It’s been like this for a couple days already so it won’t get any worse overnight. At least the guy wasn’t drunk enough to forget to bandage it. Granted, its moleskin, but it’s better than some.” Sebastian shrugged one shoulder again, shifting his gaze to the red light above them. “You only crash into a pole once.”  
  
                The criminal nodded his head in agreement, eyes bouncing from Sebastian to the light and back, again. "I did set up a stronger security with this one, granted. Already had fun with that one." His expression deadpanned for a moment before snapping right back to reality. "Moleskin. Right. Regular woodsman, so it seems," he sighed, shaking his head at the situation as a whole. This was the reason that they did so well together. At least when Sebastian got hurt, James knew enough to usually do something. That and he was useful to James. Extremely useful. "That's a safe bet not to do it, again," he admitted, starting off as the light turned green, again. James went another couple of blocks before it was evident that the city was thinning out. Taking a shot in the dark, James turned into the lot of a nicer looking hotel--nice in comparison to the places they'd previously stayed--and parked the car in a vacant spot.   
  
                He lowered himself a little farther and thought about that. “I can imagine. Few people like you as much as I do. Security will shape up when I get there.” He scratched the back of his neck at the thought. “Always could chop off fingers if they get out of line. They only need three shoot a gun. Woodsman is a little different from a seaman. The guy was about to slap scales on me when I told him to sod off. Then he used the moleskin.” The hotel they were headed toward came into view and he raised his eyebrows. “You’ve certainly gotten upgraded since we were last together.

                Shutting off the engine and the inevitable warmth that went with it, James smiled at Sebastian's statement nonetheless. He liked that idea, almost more than he was willing to admit to. Raising an eyebrow at his words, James eased out of the vehicle and to his feet. "Yes, I suppose that you could. Certainly would make things interesting. Keeping a collection of fingers around the house would do wonders for the decor." James smirked. "Damn. Glad to know your people skills aren't that good just around me," he teased. "What can I say? We're here one night instead of indefinitely; I'm entitled to splurge a little." James shut the car door before walking to the back. Pulling out a secondary, drier knapsack, he picked up the guitar case as well. "Need some help there?" he asked, shutting the boot. 

                He gone to ease himself from the car ended up falling out instead. Sebastian rested his forehead on the pavement for a moment before getting up. At least he couldn’t embarrass himself any worse tonight. “Fine. I’m fine.” He got up, shut the door and headed toward where James was. Now that he was upright he didn’t have a problem and took the guitar case from him. “My people skills are amazing.” Sebastian muttered, “I just think a few fingers to scare the people who come to visit would be fun.”

                He tried, he really did, but the laughter that escaped was impossible to suppress. "You alright there?" he asked, running his hand over the other's shoulder and forehead for a moment. "Yeah, maybe getting you to bed is the best option." More out of security than affection, James took Sebastian's elbow and started to ease him towards the building. A sharp cry went from the vehicle as he locked it, crossing the lot. "We could hang them up like windchimes. No need for 'no trespasser' or 'no solicitor' signs." Tugging the glass door open, James helped Sebastian in before walking to the front desk and checking in.


	13. Chapter 13

He sighed in exasperation when James continued to try to help him inside. “I’m fine, just got off balance. You know what they say about beanpoles.” The taller of the two rolled his eyes and continued- choosing not to argue about it. The front clerk looked at the state of Sebastian and chose to talk only to James- who looked at least a little better.  When she had gone to get the key he smirked, “Oh I like that more. Hang them up by their throats. Leave the skeletons. If police ask- tell them they are simply well placed props.”

                "I think this is more than a case for beanpoles." James signed down his name, giving her his card and information. Never was he happier to have never used his real name for the majority of his life. Granted, James wondered for how much longer than would be able to last. The current house, car, and everything else was under his real name and, yet, he was trying to crawl back into his fake one. "Hush," he laughed, startled by the sudden grumble beside his ear. "As if that wouldn't get us in a hell of trouble. Just keep it in the house; less suspicious."

                He noticed the slight pause as James wrote down his name and smiled gently at the significance of it. Sebastian chuckled when the other told him to quiet down and he flicked his gaze to the other, white teeth showing behind his curled lips. “Alright, as long as I get a dungeon…” He had just as much of a vindictive personality as James was when it came to torture and killing people. What could he say?

                Taking the roomkey from the clerk with what might have been an apologetic look, he was smirking as he pulled Sebastian towards the lift. "That requires it having a basement or a room that has stone walls and all of those fun toys in it. I think that's asking for a little much, don't you think, tiger?" Slipping into the small mirrored room, James kept his hand on the doors until Sebastian joined him before nudging the floor number that matched with the card he held. "I already supply you with more toys than you know what to do with. Usually."

                He made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat as he joined him. “Just give me a shovel and some cement and I’ll take care of it.” Sebastian laughed softly and smirked at the idea. “You do supply me with that. But you could always join me.”

                "Sebastian Moran, I will not have you digging up my floor to put a dungeon in," he scolded, tone purely amused, all the same. His last part earned a snort, nodding his head in a quasi-sort of agreement. "I suppose that I could. But I see no need for a dungeon when I can do it in the living room or any other room. Far easier to recall events in familiar rooms." The lift doors parted and James lead out, pausing and unlocking the door to their room before letting Sebastian step in.

                Since he was carrying the bigger object he stepped in first and set them on one of the two beds. Lovely woman had given them both queens. He snorted and turned back. “Alright, Alright, I won’t dig up the living room. Though I was actually planning on doing it in the backyard if there was room.” The thought of James joining was sort of… well, he liked the idea. “Easier to clean though if it wasn’t in the bedroom.”

                James couldn't help but snort at the sight he was greeted with. Huh. Even in Italy there were some. Easing the wet officer's shirt off, he allowed himself a shrug. "Depends on if there's enough room in the back. Haven't given it much of a look, to be honest. We'll see, though." He paused for a moment, eyebrows raised at the other. "Definitely not the bedroom. Too much else happens in there to mix those kind of events up." He didn't even attempt to wipe the smirk from his lips as he continued to changing out of the wet clothing.   
   
                “I would hope not.” He smirked watching him for a few moments. Sebastian saw that a lot of his wounds were healing and was glad that was so. He turned away, closing the windows before opening up his rifle case. The beautiful dragunov he had inside almost brought tears to his eyes- almost- the S.M. carved into the side brought a familiar sight to him that he never knew he’d missing until now. His fingers ran across from it and he smiled at the cleaning kit, untouched by the water, lay just inside. It wasn’t until James spoke again that he looked up.

                Rummaging through the bag he'd brought with him, he tugged out a pair of pants that weren't soaked from their underwater excursion. He considered ducking into the loo, but Sebastian was far too enamored with the rifle to even worry about that. Dressed in something that certainly felt warmer, he slipped into the adjacent room to hang up the wet clothes before stepping back into the room, chuckling. "Shall I leave you two alone for a bit?" James took a seat on the edge of the bed without the case on it, down to his pants and the pair of chains, again. 

                He rolled his eyes at the thought. “Honestly.” Sebastian used the restroom but didn’t have anything else to change into so he simply just took off his hoodie and shirt. The bruising from before spider webbed up his back with scars and the poorly stitched skin reached from the small of his back to the middle. He entered into the bedroom again showing just the roadmap that he was. “I’ve gained two things I’d thought I’d lost back tonight. I’m entailed to stare at them for a bit.”  
  
                "Save the fact that your rifle doesn't get nearly as jealous as I do," he teased. Black eyes swarmed over the expanse, gauging the damage that he'd suffered. James motioned for him to take the space beside him, quite ready to survey what he hadn't seen in awhile in addition to figuring out how much he'd have to deal with the following day. "Where's the tattoo?" he asked at length, his own curiosity getting the better of him as he moved closer to begin his study.

                "You never know, she does tend to fire to the left when she knows I show you more attention." He smirked. So far he hadn't turned to show him his torso completely. Sebastian presented himself. The tattoo was on his upper left hand side of his chest. It was still a tad bit red but the furious tiger raking the claw marks up was very pronounced. "I think it looks better than the last one." Sebastian came up beside him, only sitting and not laying down for now.

                "Yes, but I can just as easily fire things at you if you start showing her more attention." Half sitting on Sebastian and half on the bed, James traced his finger along the edge of it, taking in the appearance of it. A smile flitted across his face and he nodded his head approvingly. "Looks good. Suits you," he praised, having missed the tattoo more than he had let on previously. His hand continued to cross over his chest and shoulders, skating over marks that he didn't recognize previously. 

                “I’ve very well aware.” He chuckled as James practically straddled him on the edge of the bed. Not that he minded of course. Sebastian watched the other’s face as hands moved across his chest and in the crevasses. At times he winced when he came to a sore spot or a wound. “It should. The guy who did it was so high he needed permission to land. Didn’t really trust him with a needle but it turned out alright.” He hit a shoulder wound that made him shut his eyes briefly. “You look good. Healing well?” He wanted to fill the silence again.

                The other's commentary brought a smile to his lips, snorting. "You have a penchant for meeting the oddest people," he reflected, shaking his head in amusement as fingers caressed over a mostly-healed scrape. It hadn't been deep. Long. Surprisingly smooth around the edges. James would have easily wagered that he caught himself on something. Not glass. Ripped through the shirt he had been wearing, he bet. He eased up when his fingers came into sore spots, tucking that away into the recesses. "Surprisingly so," he mumbled, fingers dragging up the scar on his neck and face. He certainly liked that one a lot. "I suppose that it helps that I haven't been in these kinds of situations often in the past few weeks. Ironic, almost." James pressed a fleeting kiss against the base of the whitish scar before getting off of Sebastian and shifting around to look his back over. 

                “I do. I’ve met a sea captain, a druggie, a transsexual and a depressed clown all in one week. I think they finally freed the crazy people.” He shrugged and cocked his head a little watching the expressions over the other. Emotions flashed briefly. Some of worry, some of wonder, a few with anger. “I’m glad.” He liked the kisses on the scar on his face. “Adds character.” He muttered. When James came around him, he involuntarily tensed. The first touch made him grip the side of the bed where he was sitting at. He silently begged that the other would refrain from touching the spot the fisherman had carved him up with. “What’s ironic about staying out of trouble?”

                "A depressed clown?" He laughed a little. "You seem to have missed that story." He eased up on his touches when it came to his back, inspecting the angry, red marks without giving it a single touch. That was going to be hell to have to clean up tomorrow and they most certainly would have to use alcohol to clean it; he doubted regular antiseptic was strong enough. Marks and scars that weren't half as angry as the one on his back received the gentle, sweeping movements of his fingers against the skin. "I suppose it does," he mumbled. "Hm? Oh, well, considering that the reason that they're after you is me, I find it a little strange," he admitted, something thoughtful in his tone of voice. "Come on, you should get some rest, yeah?"

                “Oh god. Where do you think I got the explosives from? He just wouldn’t die. I had to go to a fun house to chase down someone. Next thing you know there is an ax wielding depressed clown that started crying about his mother halfway through. I lit the place on fire and then he walked out of the flames! Then I shot him in the head and ran. I don’t like clowns to begin with.” He shook his head laughing a bit. “No, they were after me. At least two of the three nations were. The last I stumbled upon and they recognized me from a past deal with you. Chinese guy who tapped his cigarette ash into my whiskey- you remember. I strung him up and his fake hair.” He turned his head a little, “They’ll heal. I’m fine on the rest part.”

                Laughing along with him, he could hardly help himself, the mental picture alone of the sniper diving in and out of a funhouse with a mad clown on his heels with laughable enough. His shoulders shook with the effort of calming himself down until he faded into broken, silent chuckles. The memory of the man strung up with his god-awful toupet hardly helped either. "Well, you certainly sound like you had an interesting go these past several weeks." James shifted so that he was in front of him, again, laying down with his arm perched behind his head. "Don't tell me at least some part of you isn't slightly exhausted." 

                “Maybe a little part.” He leaned back and yawned behind his hand. “Haven’t slept in a bed in… well since the last time we were together. It’s either been a box or in the back of a car.” Sebastian roamed over him and sighed softly. “I’m just a little tired. I don’t want to wake up in a garbage can or something.“ He opened himself up yet again.

 

                His expression was thoughtful as he looked to the other, giving him a short nod. "Back of the car's not always fun, I'll give you that it's certainly a lot nicer than a box." James let his eyes fall shut for a moment. "I can promise, for my part, you won't wake up in a bin 'or something' as long as I don't have the charming courtesy of waking up with something potentially lethal in my face. Tends to make a bad morning for everyone." James cracked an eye open to look to him. "You're safe." 

  
                He sighed and laughed quickly. “You know, I never thought I’d actually miss hearing that.” Sebastian took that in for a moment. “I love you. You know that right?” He shifted now that he could scoot up on the bed a little. It was such a… a soft and loving thing between them. It was such a strange situation for the two- a master assassin and a master criminal.

   
                He gave a snort in reply, shrugging his shoulders. "I suppose for all the excitement and glamour in our lives, one has to slow down and catch their breath for a moment or two. And given the second head trying to grow from your lower back, you might need more than a single breath." He rolled his eyes, doing his best to looking dismissive of the other's words, but the smile that threatened certainly ruined the attempt. "Yeah, yeah. You too, you fucking idiot," he muttered, fingers brushing through the ends of the brown hair.

                “I do not second head growing out of my back for Christ’s sake. It isn’t that bad.” He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips  still. “Okay, maybe I need more than one breath. But… only two.” Sebastian grimaced. “I’m glad…” When the fingertips went to his hair he shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t worry, I plan to put it back to blond soon. Being brunette doesn’t really suit me.”

  
                "Isn't it?" James raised his eyebrows at him with a smile of his own. "Have _you_  seen it? I mean, seriously, you could use it for rear vision." Granted, it was bad, but maybe James just liked seeing the other in such a good mood that the playful banter was worth it. Maybe. "Only two. Not sure we could afford more." He chuckled quietly, tugging on one of the strands teasingly. "Thank god. You make a really nice blond, not so much as a brunette. Ruins the appeal a little. Caught my surprise when I saw you." 

                “I saw it in a mirror. It’s red and sore and infected. But it’s not like there is green growing out of it.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, the bruising just makes it worse. I’m not gonna die from it yet. Remember, I have nine lives.” Sebastian humed lightly at that idea. “Just two and I’ll be your roaring brave tiger once more.” The hair fell into his face and James pushed it back again. “I think I like being blond honestly. My German side doesn’t get enough attention. I had to change it to keep the people off my trail. They were telling people to watch for the tall blond with blue eyes.”

  
                 "Oh, excuse me, I seemed to have forgotten. I would have imagined that you'd be out of them sooner or later. You manage to put yourself through a lot," he reminded, the incident with the blade in his gut coming to the forefront of his mind. "Mm," James smiled, thoroughly pleased by that notion. "Good." Yeah. Blond would definitely stick out in this crowd like a sore thumb. Even his own dark hair had, but that was easily remedied with the hat he'd clung to almost like a child's blanket. "Certainly a good way to fix it," he admitted.

  
                “Well I think I’ve lost around four already but five is enough to keep me going for a while.” He kept his eyes locked with James’. “I do, but I haven’t seen one instance yet that it wasn’t worth it.” Sebastian rolled over on his stomach instead of his side to ease the stress on his ribs. “The brunette kept me out of trouble for a while. But ironically, instead of becoming an exotic dancer like I mentioned, I think that I might go into hair. I did fairly well on my own for only a bottle of dye and ocean water available.”  He laughed at the idea. “Spreading evil through hair.”

 

                "Oh, I hope so," he muttered, running a hand over his face. Shifting, again, James did his best to get comfortable. He stopped after a bit, watching as Sebastian settled onto his stomach, thinking over his words. "Be careful there, Moran, people might think you're getting sentimental. Banish the conversations to be heard," he scoffed, smiling all the same. If he were completely honest, he quite literally lucked out with Sebastian. The moment, however, was short-lived as the idea of exotic dancer to hairdresser Sebastian wafted through the recesses of his mind. James snorted. "Could do both; pick up a little money on the side. Go from killing people, to coloring hair; someone's still dying one way or the other, I suppose."   
  
                “I’m just… At ease. For the first time in a while. Even you said it. I’m safe for a bit.” Sebastian had to think about his words. “I know I’m being ‘stupidly sentimental’ right now but I’m allowed my moments. Remember I’m beat up, tired, abused and water logged so you’ll have to forgive me in the morning.” He cocked his head to the side at the look James’ was giving him. He laughed at the idea, “Well I doubt you’d be alright with me being a striper. I also doubt I could do it honestly. I’m so modest, you know. I could kill people like that. Shampoo their hair and drown them.”

  
                He laughed a little, nodding his head in agreement all the same. "It's merely a surprise to hear something like that come from you. And if you are tired, it's best that you sleep, as much as I am enjoying this conversation. I don't want to tire you out any further than you are." The knuckles of his fingers eased gently over his cheek, expression quite soft--he'd blame it on the water and the exhaustion himself. "Ah, no, you are definitely not playing that one. You should remember that I am ridiculously possessive of that which I do consider mine," he reminded, hooking his free hand on the chain of Sebastian's dog-tags in a teasing fashion. "Oh, yes, the picture of modesty. That's true. Not sure you could keep up the look, however, or the chattering of the clients. You do better behind a rifle anyway." He leant his head back against the pillows, eyes shut, again. "Look better, too." 

  
                “Sorry, but at least there are going to more conversations to be had.” He shrugged still looking into James’ face. “I’ll live.” Sebastian shut his eyes and let the other brush his knuckles along his skin. “You are rather possessive. Especially over my striped arse.  I’d rather be behind a rifle any day. I’m sure that you’d like the idea if I started to just walk around naked all the time shamelessly. Even the idea of wearing the collar and leash you seem to like.” Sebastian pulled the pillow to him, not feeling like moving.  


                "Don't apologize," he dismissed. "It's merely something to get used to." James supposed that there was still a good deal to get used to when it came to the pair of them. Much of it was still the same, the basics of their chemistry and what-not, but much of it was also very, very different. The simple evolution of human romantic relationships. How quaint. "I am and I won't apologize for being such." The criminal grinned, far from offended by it. "Granted, I would probably get very little done--still plays off the same logic as you in a suit--but it would certainly have its benefits. And the leash would give me something to hold onto and jerk around. Again, nothing would get done as I wouldn't let you out of the house in that shape, but it'd be fun," he laughed. 

                “Good news about that I guess is that at least we’ll have some time to get used to it. The tracker has been carved out of me, I took care of couple of the more problematic people after us, you found a house. Damn, we’ve almost become domestic.” That brought another bit of laughter to the surface. Sebastian cast him a grin, “I never thought I looked that good in a suit honestly- who needs to get things done when you have a man running around naked that you’re attracted to.” He stifled a yawn and tried to turn over- he immediately rethought the idea and went back on his side. “That it would be. Fun.”

  
                "So lack of people killing us and a permanent place of residence counts as domesticity? I think we have it made, then," he laughed, the phrase sounding ridiculous. He supposed, in a way, they'd always been "domestic" to that degree. Before, however, it had been just James' flat and Sebastian lived there. Now, at least for James, it felt different. Different wasn't even a bad thing, to be honest. "Mm, tiger, you don't have the pleasure of seeing you in a suit. Believe me, your opinion would most definitely change if it could. It's like taking something so irrevocably wild and shoving it into very business-like confines. Very sexy. Granted, I'm not sure the parading around without a thing on would be a bad thing once in awhile." He smiled a little, turning on his side to face the other. "Very fun." 

                   
                He tugged on the long piece of hair in front of his face. It was nearly down to his shoulders in places. The stubble on his face didn’t look great either he imagined. “I’ll make sure to wear one randomly once in a while now you have your fetish moments. For some reason I doubt that I would be wearing it all that long anyway if you didn’t have anything to do.” He tugged on the piece of brown hair again. “How’s your hair cutting skills? Or just hacking- rather.” Sebastian waited a moment before explaining, “They’ll now be looking for a tall long hair brunette with blue eyes. I think it’s time I cut off the mop.”

                "Now that I have my fetish moments?" James giggled quietly, smirking to himself. "You have obviously no remembrance of Rome, do you?" Running a hand back through his own hair, he watched with amusement as Sebastian toyed with his own hair. "Decent enough to make it a lot shorter than it is now without it looking completely stupid. Can't quite go for military short, but enough that it'll look different. Would you rather that I do that in the morning or is it bothering you too much?"

                There was so much laughter between them, it hardly seemed real now. “Oh I remember Rome. How could I ever forget that- I’ll be freaking smirking at Rome in my grave. Those maids had a thrill though.” Sebastian shook his head. “I haven’t had a haircut for a good year; one more night won’t kill me. I’m just starting to resemble a hippie.”

                James snorted, taking a moment to remember the way it'd played out. "You have to give them credit for not screaming, however, that was quite a sight to walk into." James looked rather proud of himself at that. Hand behind his head, he sighed. Odd enough, memories like Rome and the other incidents between them had been what he'd spent so long the past several years clinging to. It was his reminder for what he might have it he made it back. "Might be a little kind, tiger. At least with hippies, it's all the same length." James let his own fingers twist through the ends of it. 

                He shrugged his broad shoulders once more, "Was more shocked than anything. It was funny how the head maid opened up the door, walked in, turned right around and shut the door behind her. More than likely needed therapy. Oh gods- that reminds me of what happened in Moskow." Sebastian covered his face with one hand, but still grinning all the same. He felt James' fingers run through his hair. "True. With mine its all different lengths and it needs a good wash but its fine for now."

                The criminal listened intently with a wide smile on his lips, nodding his head and humming in agreement. His pity for her was short-lived as that had been one very damned good evening, if he were to flesh his own opinion out. At the mention of Moscow, James couldn't help but to laugh, another fond memory of his own. "Well, certainly learned you have quite good marksmanship even when... distracted." He shot him another smile, quite content. Calm. Quiet. Yeah, every once in awhile, it wasn't a bad thing. "In the morning, then."

                He nodded to the smaller man and laid on his stomach again. It was going to be hell to sleep on. Sebastian slipped on the hoodie he was wearing before with the padding inside it and laid down with a grunt. "In the morning."

                Easing into a sitting position, James reached over Sebastian to turn out the light before laying back down. "Get some sleep. Going to be alright for the night?" As caring as the words seemed, James honestly didn't want to have to wake in a panic because Sebastian had something all-of-a-sudden wrong. It might not end well for either of them. 

                "I probably won't sleep for a while but I'll be fine." He stayed in his same position and didn't say much else after that. Sebastian concentrated on the others breathing and slowed his own. It would be a  
long night before morning he suddenly realized. New bed, a heartbeat next to him, this would be interesting.

                "Alright. Good night." For all of his protests and how awake he'd been before, James drifted off rather quickly. The weeks had been trying, although, nothing like Sebastian had been through. It was the first time he'd felt... comfortable falling asleep. It wasn't merely the product of overwork, inactivity, and muggy nights, but a valid, thought-out intent. Mostly. 

                Unlike James, he crept closer to James’ once he knew that he was asleep and didn’t sleep for a long time. He was either too deep in his thoughts or he had too much pain to stay in one position. Eventually he used his gracefulness to get down to the floor. He pulled his pillow with him and curled with some of the bedding over him. He sighed as the harder surface gave him comfort and glanced up at James’ hand laying off the bed.

                Every so often, the criminal would shift, still dead asleep, but body in need of a more comfortable position. Half curled up and half splayed out at the same time, he finally settled comfortably. Sebastian's movement, however, earned a good bit of shifting. After awhile, James preoccupied the space before held up and now warmed by Sebastian's presence. Quiet, calm, and dozed off, James seemed more or less content in his sleep.  
  
                Sebastian didn’t wake until morning, still half hidden underneath the bed and half twisted into a partial pretzel. When James shifted on top of the bed it put weight on his back and made a sound common to a ball loosing air out of his lungs. “God dammit…” He whispered and pulled himself away from the bed once more. Trying as hard as he did, he still couldn’t go back to sleep so chose to get a shower before it was too late.

                When James woke, it was with no small bit of confusion. The hotel room was warm, then again, he was concealed under the thick duvet. He smiled a little, settling back down into the warm pit that he'd formed with his body. In the background, he could hear the fall of water in the shower, remembering who he was sharing a room with. The smile kept place. After several moments of internal debate, he sat up, regretting the immediately lost warmth as he did so. 

                Sebastian stepped out of the shower and had to hold himself up on the counter top. Alright, maybe more day would kill him. He dressed in the same clothing, though he didn’t exactly love the idea. He walked out of the bathroom and met with the other’s gaze. “Morning, boss.” He smirked, a little bent over but straightening out when the other looked at him.

                "Morning," he echoed, easing onto his feet. He noticed the pained straightening, arching an eyebrow at the movement. Stepping over to the sniper, he paused behind him before lifting up the shirt to inspect the wound. "Take your shirt off, again, as much as that's going to be a problem." James left it at that before slipping into the loo. He returned with a towel, handing it over to Sebastian, then going to his knapsack to root around in it. "Put that over a pillow, then lay down on the bed with the pillow under your stomach and the ends of the towel out to the side."

                Sebastian opened his mouth to protest at the shirt being lifted up when James interrupted. “It isn’t that bad.” He muttered and removed the shirt completely with a growl deep in his vocal cords. Again he tried to lessen the idea that his back was on fire and turned only to see the tail end of the other man disappear into the restroom. He sighed and took the towel when he came back, doing exactly what he was told to avoid an argument. His stomach wound was almost only a large scab now, which was good since he couldn’t exactly sleep on his back anymore. Sebastian spread out, crossing his arms to put underneath his chin. “I can hold you, it’s just a little painful with the hot water is all…”

                Setting a pair of clears snap-boxes onto the bed beside Sebastian, James padded back to the wall and tugged open the small mini-fridge. "I'm sure that it only hurts with hot water. That's why you can't lay on it or move well because of it." James looked under his arm to smirk at him before picking up a pair of the bottles and walking forward to the bed. Taking a perch on the man's thighs with little if any apology, he gave himself a moment to inspect it and what exactly was oozing from it. "Damn..."

                Blue eyes glanced at the two twin boxes briefly before locking forward. Oh this wasn’t going to be pleasant. He just knew it.  “Well it hurts with that too but I’m not going to complain about it. Just give it a couple days to… hopefully not kill me.” He peeked at what James was doing right before the small man straddled his backside. “Do you really have to say ‘damn’… it isn’t like it’s bleeding and trying to eat us both. It’s just a cut.”

                "There's a word in that phrase that makes me frown. Can you guess what it is?" James prodded his thumb around the outside of the cut, a good few centimeters from the edge of it to see how sore it had become. "No, but it's hell, Sebastian. It looks like it could eat you or me or both if I let it fester." Dropping his hand to one of the bottle, James eased open the top before sniffing at it. Strong enough, sure. Setting it down, he started to rummage through. "You're not doing much today, I can promise you that."

                “Complain?” He guessed the word and felt fingers touch his back. His muscles tightened so fast he was surprised they didn’t rip out of his skin. A long hiss came from his lips and he bit the pillow for a few seconds. “Okay- gateway to hell on my back- wonderful. You didn’t have to touch it because I got the question wrong.” Sebastian had no idea James had not even touched the wound but yet the skin around it. He bit the pillow once more and made a half growl half whimper. Of all the things he didn’t like doing, it was sitting still for long periods of time.

                "Hopefully, actually." James' lips drew into a deep frown. "I believe in discipline as much as the next bloke, but that wasn't out of malice, pet. You're absolutely inflamed." He sounded rather regretful, rooting around in his box until he pulled out a metal object with a spoon-shaped end piece. He sighed heavily through his nose, debating on how he wanted to proceed with this. "This is going to hurt like hell. I need to get past what it's tried to heal up with and the puss and whatnot. I am sorry about this. Just take a deep breath and grip onto something." Long fingers poised around the wound, spreading the lips of it open before using the device to root out the scabbing.

                If Sebastian had been any other man, he would have probably screamed like someone was running him through with a hot poker. Which was close to the feeling. He had bitten into the pillow and put his fingernails deep into the bed. When the long fingers pulled the edges of the wound open he had shut his eyes, but the metal object had entered-  his fingernails went right through the bedding as his jaw and other muscles bunched up. Prying the knife out of his stomach surrounded by sharks and swimming twenty miles hadn’t hurt this badly. He was sure James was trying to dig down to his spine all over again.  
  
                He could feel the other's reaction under him, the movements making his own stomach flip. Just from the look of it alone he could tell how painful it must be. In all of his years and study, he'd never quite seen a reaction from an infection like this. Sebastian was just lucky that he wasn't paralyzed or something equally terrible. He tried to work as quickly as he could diligently, scraping out what he could. It wasn't much surprise when the wound started to bleed against, fingers quickly coated in a familiar substance. Wiping the excess on the towel, James finally managed to get to the root of the wound before he began to try and clean it. "Hold on, pet, it'll be over soon." 

                The bedding ripped more underneath his fingertips, almost being shredded from just small jerks he couldn’t keep still from. His eyes even teared and he felt himself almost pathetic for such a little bloody chip causing all of his problems. Sebastian nearly passed out a few times but the warmth trickling down his sides and back kept him in reality. If he passed out now and stopped moving, James might knick something that wasn’t supposed to be knicked or worse. It was better to stay awake, stay at least a little alert just in case. Sebastian opened one eye, “I. Can. Deal.” He growled and latched onto the pillow yet again.

                James took the bottle from beside him, cracking off the top before using it to wash off the blood and flush out the wound. Bits of deadened skin, more puss, and pieces of rust came flooding up through as James kept lapping it over. "That was the worst part," he promised him, keeping his tone uncharacteristically gentle. It was his bedside manner and, for a psychopath, he'd always managed a rather fair one. Distancing himself, really. Setting the bottle aside, James mopped up around the cut before continuing. Peroxide and a salve were both applied over it despite the blood that was still bubbling out. 

                His grip, his teeth and his muscles didn’t unclench at all. The only sound he made after his one utterance was a low moan when the liquid, very cool on the raging inferno on his back, seeped through the wound. His back muscles relaxed for a split second before tensing once more. The gentle tone helped a hell of a lot more than he thought it would. There was more warmth leaking out of him and he sighed softly, eyes fluttering.

                He was very gentle and controlled with his motions, making sure that the medicine was well contained within it. Gauze was applied heavily over it, applying just enough pressure to keep more blood from spilling out. "Very good. That wasn't so bad," he mumbled, reaching a hand forward to brush the clean, back of it against his shoulder. "We're almost done. Just have to seal it up and wrap it up. You're going to be sore for awhile, though." 

                Sebastian let out a breath and shut his eyes. “Okay…” He wasn’t planning on moving. No matter how much he hated the idea. His body slowly started to unravel and he sighed softly, “Can we stay in…” The tiger wasn’t up for even moving a finger suddenly. He wiggled his toes briefly to make sure everything still worked properly.

                "Yes, yes," James sighed, prepping the needle up, throwing the other a borderline amused look. "You can stay in and sleep." Needle sterilized and ready, James let the end prick the inflamed part of his skin. "It's going to hurt," he warned before letting the needle pierce through the skin. Just as before, he was quick and efficient about it, done far faster than he'd been the time with his stomach. After lacing it up so that the skin all came together, James sealed off the end and severed the string. He was a little more liberal with medication over the healing wound, applying enough gauze over the wound to cover it completely. Working with Sebastian on his stomach was certainly a task, but he managed easily enough to bind him up. "Done." 

                “I need to go with you.” He whispered softly feeling the other ease his way off of his back to get the needle ready. Sebastian braced himself but didn’t really care enough to feel pain anymore as the needle went through inflamed skin and red tissue. It didn’t look pleasant he imagined but it wasn’t like he was able to do anything about it. “Lucky you found me…” He whispered into the pillow, more grateful than he had been before- not just because James was stitching him up either. The spot on his back was no way reachable and if James hadn’t come along… Sebastian’s mortality hit him with a ton of bricks. If the wound really was that bad… he could have easily died this time from infection. That would have been a pretty fool way to go out in his opinion. To do all the things he had done and then die of infection. He sighed and rested his head in the ripped and slightly sweat dampened bedding. When James asked him to turn he hesitated before steeling himself and rolling, then sitting up slowly not to rip the stitching. This would not be fun. “Thank you.” He spoke sincerely, keeping his blue gaze locked on the other.

                "Lucky that I still retain my knowledge so well," he murmured, tone teasing. Wiping his hand on the towel, James quickly rushed to help Sebastian ease over. When he was sitting up, James kept a grip on him to keep him that way. "You're welcome." His expression was sincere, leaning forward slightly to press a kiss to his forehead. "Go on, now. You need to lay down and rest. That's naturally taken a lot out of you." James shut up his supplies, everything put back into order before taking up the towel. "Get some rest. You're eating when you wake up," he added, not leaving room for argument as he put the boxes back into his bag.

                He shut his eyes slowly at the kiss and sighed at the feeling. Sebastian didn’t argue either, nodded his agreement immediately. “I’ll be running in a day or two…” His breathing was slow and eyes heavily lidded. Glancing at the bed he chuckled, “Sorry- we’ll have to replace the sheets.” Sebastian stared at the other he sighed, “Are you… gonna go out now?”  
  
                James nodded his head, expression placating. "Of course." Zipping the bag shut, he walked back towards the bed, leaning forward on the foot of it. Chin propped up by his hand, he smiled serenely at his words. "You covered in sweat, blood, and ripped sheets--not exactly a new scenario to deal with, is it?" He waved it off, stepping back after a moment. "No, I'm staying. Just going to wash up, alright? I'll be here, tiger. Get some sleep."   
  
                He nodded and pulled himself back down on the bed, stomach down. “Alright… I’ll be here.” He muttered and yawned softly. “You know… can’t go anywhere.” Sebastian hurt, but no way in hell he’d admit it. His hair came into his face and he flipped it out of the way with a flick of his hand. “I’m just gonna… sleep for… a bit…” He muttered eyes starting to slam shut.

                Black eyes kept careful watch over the other as he started to drift. Exhaustion seemed etched on every pockmarked and bruised inch of his tanned skin, not that the sniper didn't have every right to be such. Or that James didn't reserve the right to be a little more than frustrated. Keeping an eye on that wound would be imperative. Yes, he'd flushed out most of the impurities and, yes, it was cleaner, but it could still turn from bad to worse with little warning. Bastard, he thought to himself, suppressing a smile at the brunette's bumbled words. "You do that," he dismissed, stepping into the loo before starting up his shower. 

                For once the other slept fairly peacefully and curled on the bed. His own sudden movements didn’t even wake him up at times until he finally nearly fell off the bed. Sebastian sighed softly and sat up slowly a few hours later. “How long have I slept…?” He asked to the darkness, hand going out to try to find the other and not fully awake to see any light yet.

                "A few hours. It's just a little past noon." James looked up from his laptop, black eyes illuminated with an ethereal glow in the blue light. Half concealed under the duvet, he was splayed out on his stomach, spidery fingers holding to Sebastian's hand when he felt a hand out for him. "You were out. Almost dangling off when I came out of the shower. I'm surprised I didn't wake you twisting you back onto the bed. Made sure you didn't rip anything, though, I'm sure you would have woken up for that. How're you feeling?"

                “Good…” He whispered and ran a hand over his face. Sebastian could see his eyes now and was more than a little glad that they were there. He glanced down at himself, seeing that the blanket was tossed over him as well. Feeling fingers touch his, he laced them and hung his head downward. “I didn’t dream or feel anything, I was definitely out of it.” He pulled one leg up to his chest and squeezed the other’s hand gently. The mortality came back into his mind and he paused before saying anything. “I’m alive. I’ll be back up to par in a few days or less.”

                Sebastian's words earned a noise of pleasure from the criminal, nodding his head in straightforward understanding. The pad of his thumb coaxed gentle circles against the span of skin between his thumb and forefinger, the action of an absent-mind. "You've time to rest," he murmured, looking back to the screen before him, hold on his hand still strong. "Tomorrow we do need to head out from here, however. The ride back shouldn't be bad. You can lounge the chair back for most of it." 

                “I know. I just can’t focus on sleep. I’m worried.” He muttered looking toward the room in the darkness. “How well I’m going to perform as your bodyguard with this injury or how the hell I’m going to protect you…” Sebastian sighed softly and shook his head. “I’m fine I’m just… I’m worried. I’ll sit in front.”

                "Your worry is completely natural. Everything will be fine, though. And you need to sleep, it'll get you back to 'par' faster than if you don't. Your body's going to need a lot of time to recover, tiger." James kept his tone quiet, a certain command to his voice. The bedside manner had been put to rest with the supplies, but it was still quite obvious that he was out for Sebastian's best interest. He often said that he always was. Usually. "You'll be just fine. And I'm not helpless. I can take care of myself, too."

                “I know you aren’t useless and I know you can take care of yourself. But I’m still supposed to be your body guard. Last time I checked, I have more holes in me than the Swiss Army defense line. I don’t want to be useless to you.” He sighed softly and shook his head. “I’ll rest, sorry. Goodnight… I guess.” Sebastian was very confused all of a sudden and lay back down, completely…. He shook his head, “I’ll… I’ll just get back to normal.”

                A dry chuckle seeped past his lips, James looking up from the off-light of his screen. A hand reached forward when Sebastian settled down, fingers slowly rotating small, easy circles into the sniper's neck--a habit picked up from ages ago. "You're not useless, Sebastian, you sure as hell should know that by now. Only bastard stupid and brilliant enough to plan a rescue mission bleeding from your stomach." He fell silent for a few moments, debating on how he could piece his words together. "Yes, you are still my bodyguard, employee; we've said that before. But I am inclined to care what happens to you and to care for you when it's needed, even if that bit stays between us." 

                He looked back at him and sighed through his nose. Sebastian squeezed his hand gently and shrugged, “I’m not useless, I know that. And I know that you don’t plan on getting rid of me. Though I can’t deny I’m a stupid bastard who stages a rescue under all that… but I did have a good reason for it.” His blue eyes, darkened by the computer’s light and the darkness around them, locked onto James’. “It’ll stay between us but… I’m just… I don’t want to lose my worth. Even if you don’t plan to put the tiger down.”

                The man twisted onto his side, pushing the laptop a little further towards the head of the bet. Long fingers kept a gentle movement through the brunette's hair. He listened, nodding every so often, even going so far as to chuckle. "I'll certainly admit that I was rather fond of the rescue." When Sebastian opened himself up a little more, his opening phrase catching his attention, James felt himself lean forward. "You won't. You just need to recuperate. You're still young-ish. Your body'll bounce back." His fingers trailed gently, middle weathering the scar down the side of his face.

                He sighed and shut his eyes carefully. “I met this guy while we were separated.” Sebastian calmed significantly at the fingers working their way through his hair. “He was crass and I wanted to shove my pistol in his eye plenty of times but he said something important. The rare few times he actually did say something intelligent.” Sebastian shook his head. “Turned out to be one of theirs but he said that whoever was waiting for me that I should have said what I thought more. I was too quiet. There were no mind readers. Mind you that was the same guy who shoved a knife in my back.” The sniper nodded again, “I will… this time I’ll be better. Alright?” He felt the appendages go slowly across his scar and frowned, “Yeah…”

                It was easy to picture short-tempered Sebastian--at least with those who gave him reason to be--shoving the business end of a gun into the eye-socket of some bastard who talked too much. James wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd been on that end far too many times. He was also too arrogant to be afraid of a tiger with a gun, finding it appeasing rather than terrifying. "Insightful for a bastard," he mumbled, interest there. "I'll readily admit that that will certainly make things go better. My understanding of love as anything other than a toy is... limited. So, I thank you for that." James felt him frown under his fingers. "It suits you."

                He shook his head with a chuckle. “Insightful was one word for a drunk sailor who works for the British government tracking assassins before he stabs a chip out of their back.” Sebastian shrugged one of his shoulders and turned his head back to the natural position, still having his eyes closed in the feeling of the other. “I meant being better as an employee, getting better wound wise. Love… well… If we didn’t love each other I doubt you’d have dealt with me this long.” The utterance had brought a smile to his own face ironically. It did actually work both ways. “Suits me to look like a roadmap?”

                "The word 'bastard' was in there, too. It balances it out, I suppose." It was interesting to see how well he responded to the touches of his hair and rather amusing for James, to say the least. Sometimes, the other seemed like nothing more than an over-grown cat in a man's body. Then he opened his mouth or did something lethal. Still an over-grown cat, but a damned deadly one. "That would certainly ease up on the amount of times that I have to worry. And consider employee searching, again. I'm already going to have to do that enough in the coming up months." He looked positively nauseas at the thought. "The interviews are hell." A shrug was wheedled from the criminal; he was right. "That's one way to describe it. I'd say 'tiger', for lack of creativity." James smirked. 

                “If he hadn’t been a total backstabbing, no pun intended, dick then I might have liked him. Then again I had to tell him not to be crass. Which is a first, especially for me.” He shook his head and purred softly- if that was adding insult to injury on James thought process. “You worry about me? Heh, I remember someone saying I had nine lives. Once I get back to normal I can conduct the interviews. If they survive what I would put them through and then a check list set up by you.. I think they’d be worthy.” He had to roll on his side again and huffed angrily as his ribs pulled a little- it was more of a hassle than pain being involved. The mention of the scar adding to his tiger effect made a smile form again. “I remember someone saying that he liked scars as well. That they were sexy to a point.”

                "Damn." James snorted. "And you're one of the first in line to turn something rather innocent into something extremely obscene." It wasn't like James was any cleaner, but at least there was a filter between what was thought and what was said. "Yes, you had nine lives, but the past year or so might have grated that down to a smaller number. Can't exactly renew lives. That'd be interesting." For the longest time, he looked thought about that, as if genuinely figuring out if that would be a good trade or not. "It'd have to be something of value, though, or people would live for eternity. Could take a leaf from Rowling and trade in a human life." James smirked. That certainly would explain a penchant for surviving the impossible. "Oh, that certainly hasn't changed in the slightest. I still find them extremely interesting and attractive, even if they're not my own."

                “I didn’t, he was the crass one.” Sebastian shook his head, making a rare attempt to look innocent. “Besides, from time to time you like it when I’m obscene.” He moved forward a little and moved his head into the other’s hand once more. “Nine lives… I’ve died a thousand. I think I’ll be alright. Maybe I’m immortal and you just don’t know it yet.” At the soft hum that came from the criminals throat drew his attention once more. “Maybe you’d put your own on there once I’ve healed up. Between the tattoo and a few new scars… I think that I’ll be back to a more normal position.”

                James merely raised an eyebrow at him. He truly doubted that there weren't a few boorish jokes passed between the pair of them. "Yeah, well, that's usually when I'm drunk, bored, or randy as fuck. Funny how those coincide with each other." The nudge he received from Sebastian made him snicker. Demanding tiger, he thought as he combed his fingers through and resumed the movements that he'd been employing previous on the other. "Would you honestly keep such a delicious secret from me? Or do you just enjoy watching me squirm?" James already knew the answer to that. Lips splayed into a brilliant smile, James laughed to himself, shifting suppressed excitement. "Don't tempt me, tiger, you might not like what you get right now." 

                He kept up the innocent look until James started to pet him again. Okay, maybe he was an overgrown cat with long claws. “But when you are those three then you are one hell of a party.” Sebastian bit back a laugh. “That Slavic in Rome would agree with me if you hadn’t stabbed him through the hand after he groped you. I mean, I was going to aim for the eye but you got to it before me. Just doing my job. Security and all that.” He corrected himself, “Peru, not Rome. Wrong hemisphere…” His darkened eyes blinked at that. “Delicious? Like I would know how to be immortal.  I met a guy a while back who offered me it but he was nearly crazed and had braids in his hair so… not the trustworthy type.” He liked that smile, more than a lot of things and that may or may not have included torture. “I’m not tempting you. I’m telling you. I mean the last set hurt like a bitch but I kinda… miss them…” The sniper shrugged.

                His eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled in the slightest at the memory. Damned bastard. "I'd have done so much more to the imbecile, but the damned idiot moved his hand before I could do anything else. He's damned lucky for that, too." James regarded him for a moment, laughing to himself as his expression relaxed. "I think you were just far too amused seeing me flip out on someone. Imagine that. It was rare for the time." Another half-laugh escaped the criminal, trying to add validity to the image he saw in his mind of a man-man in dreadlocks trying to sell the secret to immortal life. Yet another instance that image really was everything. "A safe bet." James shifted, again. "It's been ages, believe me when I say that that counts as temptation. But, what else would you expect? A scar is formed by tissue to badly damaged that it can't heal in the proper way anymore. Of course it's going to hurt. Mm, you and me both, pet."

                “He was lucky. Because if you hadn’t gotten to him I definitely would have. He definitely got the point though.” The pun almost made him giggle. Okay, the blood loss had gotten to him a bit. “I was pretty entertained though now that you mention it. But it’s fun when you get pissed off and it isn’t at me. It’s sexy.” Sebastian reached up a hand and scratched the side of his head. The sniper glanced at James, “You make it sound like I look terrible… I know it’s a big scar but what do /you/ expect when someone uses and arousal can and gasoline on you before lighting you aflame…” He shrugged yet again, “You can find new places.”

                "That was painful," he remarked, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian and at his absolutely incorrigible remark. Of all of the knife-related humor in the entire world. "Got the point". James shook his head. "Really?" he laughed a little, smiling at the idea of it. "And here I just thought that it was relief on your face when you're not at the end of my violent spasms of rage." Sebastian's following words garnered a look of shock, certainly not having expected something like that from him. "Not at all. You look quite good. Well, you're getting there." There was a wince, however, at the mention of burning flesh, dark eyes fixating on his chest, as if trying to see through to the other side. "Oh, I certainly will." 

                “Sorry, I’m a little loopy.” He chuckled shaking his head, “I could also say that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed to deal with you. Or perhaps he didn’t have a grip on reality- Oh no, even better, no matter what he could skin the right moves for you.” Sebastian laughed more than he had all night at the terrible jokes. “I love your rage, least when I’m not down there.”  He sobered up though at the look James was giving him. “I’m going to get there. The scar, well… add it to the collection. It’s back there and the old tattoo is gone. But at least I have the new one to replace it.”

                "A little?" James laughed along with him. Even the far from humorous attempts of his dear sniper at comedy were met with odd, but happy snorts and giggles. Ages seemed to have passed since the last time that James had truly laughed with such abandon. Eventually, the last remark was met with a half-hearted shove, sighing as James did his resolute best to feign annoyance with Sebastian. "Inopportune place to be," he admitted with something of a fiendish grin on his lips. "Of course. That is true. I'm rather fond of it." Curious fingers drew against the new ink on his skin with a sort of fondness. It wasn't the previous one, but it certainly looked nice. James would give it that.

                He felt the brush and let him have more access to his chest. “I felt it was a lot more symbolic than anything else. Sentiment, you know.” Sebastian missed the old one but this new furious one was just as good. Not to mention the ink was in a lot better condition. The other had been given to him during the military when he first got the nickname of tiger. James had just been more… active, in using it. He leaned over and took a chance once again. “Thank you. For earlier. Honestly.” He said after kissing him gently on the lips.

                "Such a disgraceful thing," he chuckled, fingers continuing along his torso, tracing the exterior of his ink. "Turning men to mice. Or, rather," he smirked, "Tigers to kittens." He sounded genuinely amused by his own words, but was caught off by the sudden affection. A smile curled at his lips, the hand on his chest transferring to the nape of his neck. The kiss was received happily, pressing back perhaps more urgently than he otherwise would have admitted to.

                “Tigers to kittens? Sentiment just makes me nicer toward you, not the enemy. Then they’ll have their hearts ripped out and kept alive as you force them to eat it.” He was glad the other reciprocated the kiss and licked his lips gently for entrance. Sebastian flicked his tongue in a very submissive- albeit suggestive- way not draw the other’s out to play. When James did what he asked, he sucked on the muscle and pulled back eyes very sharp, “Hope I wasn’t overstepping anything.” 

                "Don't you know how to talk?" he breathed, smiling at the vivid description. It was true enough, though that would certainly be a feat. Eating their own human heart whilst alive. It was a subject that demanded thought, but at another time. A smile split his lips as he returned the kiss and Sebastian seemed quite into it. The familiar gesture sent a swell of delight through his body. It was enough to admit that he was surprised when the other pulled back. "Would I have let you keep going if you had?"

                “Talking is boring. Bad is fun. Good is accepted.” He whispered, licking his lips to taste the other still lingering there. “Aztecs did it. Took out the heart, kept the victim alive before chopping them to little bits. I’m not Hannibal or sacrificing anyone but it still gets the point across if you have someone watching who might have it done to them. His lips returned to the other, only answering him between kisses and softly biting on his lips. “Good, cause I wanna continue.”

                His expression was thoughtful at the idea, a slow smile spreading across his lips. He vaguely remembered the topic from secondary school lessons past. It'd certainly never sounded so interesting. Granted, if Sebastian had been his professor, he might have paid attention more. James smiled at the idea. "Fun, to say the least," he admitted before succumbing to the other's kiss without a single plight. Trying to hang on to the other's lips as laughter escaped. "Continue on too much further and we might run in to problems. Only so much your body can handle for now. Dammit.”  
  
                “Very fun.. We could even try it on some of our new friends if they betray us… Or not betray us.. .that works too…” He whispered still alternating between giving the other’s tongue a blowjob and talking to him. At times he bite the end of the other’s tongue, not hard but enough to give him a thrill. “You know… I like that idea… Me in a suit, a little bloody, adrenalin pumping… Spouting off random facts about torture- I’ll even add glasses since you reacted well last time I wore some in Dublin.” He laughed slightly, hot breath ghosting over the other’s neck. “Problems? I don’t need to use my back to kiss or… suck…” A smirk came across his lips and his hand ghost over the other’s abdomen. “Besides, it’s a thank you gift for earlier.”

                "I'm starting to think that... you just... miss messing... people up..." he managed out, far from bothered by the statement or the trouble that he had saying the statement. It was the truth and, in their circle, there was certainly no reason to hide that kind of brutal truth. Giggles escaped at the other's wonderfully vivid description, the kiss on his own end growing a little more intense. A far from decent moan escaped at the thought. The glasses had been fucking fantastic and that was an insult. "'Thank you'?" James laughed a little incredulously, but certainly wasn't going to deny Sebastian the chance to thank him. "For what, exactly?"

                He laughed at the wonderful moan he dragged from the other and kept kissing him. The tiger was coming out to play and even if he couldn’t too much- his back was dutifully reminding him of that- he still wanted to play a little. They had only been with each other that one time when they utterly destroyed the room in Italy and that was not nearly enough to make up for two years apart and then maybe almost a month of not seeing or hearing from each other again. He purred to him, kissing his neck, jaw, and lips now. “Thank you… for taking care of my injuries… of course…”

                The kisses were delightful, coaxing out a sort of relaxation that hadn't been present in far too long. Even the night in that motel hadn't had this. It was James making the move, coaxing an already sexually frustrated tiger out of his shell for one night that James had still been feeling a week after that. It wasn't that the night was bad, but that night and the one current had two different approaches. The first one had been desperate on both parts. It was starvation of body and sex and every other feeling. It was the same drive that had accompanied far too many nights in the flat in London, sex in a vain attempt to feel something that was missing. Tonight, though, had something disgustingly intimate to it and all the two of them were doing was kissing and acting like a pair of lovestruck teenagers. It was revolting, but James would be damned if he would complain about that. "Of course," he echoed, laughing. "Either that or... Mm, letting you bleed out and die..."

                A soft groan came from deep within his chest. “Gods…” He whispered as he pelted the skin in front of him, not in a hurried motion either. Sebastian couldn’t take the pounding that they usually did and he knew it. His body wouldn’t be ready for that sort of thing for a while. The larger realized something in the way James was acting as well. The slowness- or perhaps the attachment between them- was making him more keen to respond to him. He sighed, sending a rush of warm breath over the kiss marks. It was nice, not to be clawing at each other and biting whatever they could reach. He licked and kissed across James’ throat. Pausing to suck gently on his Adam’s apple. “I wasn’t bleeding out and dying… I was getting infected but the bleeding part is fine…” He whispered in his ear, letting his hand brush across the other’s hip bones. He didn’t want this to speed up. It was too good.

                Lithe fingers pawed through the brown hair affectionately, giving the strands slight tugs as Sebastian continued to leave his slow, lazy marks on his skin. The feeling left James feeling a bit lazy himself, exceptionally aroused, but lazy. Meeting his lips to Sebastian's, again, he tugged at his chapped, lower lip, sucking on it lightly before leaning back in to kiss only to have Sebastian dip his head down, again. Smiling, he nodded slightly. "True, but you were certainly bleeding out the last time that I had to help you," he minded, rubbing his fingers against the back of Sebastian's neck. "The dying part still stands, so I'll take your gratefulness." The breath on his ear made him tremble again, turning his head to claim his mouth once more. 

                His lips met his again and a purr erupted. God the other was just… He turned him on like no other would. Sebastian ravished his lips albeit slowly and kissed his breast bone wall the way down to the other’s belly button. Letting his stubble brush the other and uses his tongue to fuck the incline carefully. His eyes never left the other’s face as he went lower, keeping his back still now it wouldn’t hurt him. He sank lower and licked the other man straight through the material. “You better… I want to hear that voice of yours again.” He kissed the member coming to life and brushed his stubble, feeling it go across the flesh underneath the pants. Sebastian lowered James’ pants, kissing around the erection steadily growing and bit gently at the sensitive skin around it.

                For all of James' "mastery of self", he was pliant under Sebastian. It might have been humiliating at some point or another, but at this point in the game, James had lost all reserves. Sebastian knew him. Knew his thoughts. Knew his strengths. Knew his weaknesses. He knew how he took his damned eggs in the morning. It was certainly the most intimate that he'd ever been with any one person. Odd enough, James couldn't come to regret that. Low, easy sounds bubbled up from somewhere in the pit of his stomach. The scratch of unshaved skin, the feathery temptation of lips against sensitive flesh, and the tortuous heat that came with his brilliant-- "Oh, fuck..." His hips careened rather wantonly. A month, even after two years, was still a long time. Long fingers took anchor in the fabric as he rock towards the other, enjoying the sharp nips and the cool kisses. "Uhh... S'it, tiger..." 

                Sebastian loved that sound more than he ever let on. His movements across the other made him nearly ecstatic to know he still could. He spoke in low German that he knew James knew exactly what he was saying. “Ja, sir~” Then translated it for him as a whisper as he kissed the unsheathed flesh again. He used the stubble on his face to stimulate and nibble ever so slightly on the exposed veins and ribbed skin. His tongue had been almost like a cats before- not barbed but rough and gave the perfect texture to lick all the way up before coming down. His eyes still stared upward, watching his face and how it reddened with every stimulation that he did. The cloth under him moved a little as James’ tugged on it. “Easy, kitten. I haven’t even gotten to the best part…” He muttered softly, still keeping up his movements between words.

                There was a lot to adore about Sebastian, but on his high list of things his German was certainly one of them. The rough sound of it always had a knack for putting James a little warm in his clothes. Here in bed, now, that was almost unfair in companion to the kisses and brushes. James was struggling to keep his cool, teeth kneading into his bottom lip in an effort to hold himself back a little. It was a lost cost surely when his teeth and five o'clock shadow were deliciously against James' member. The languid licks and laps certainly aided in filling him out. "Then fucking get there," he muttered, the last note coming out as little more than a gasp. 


	14. Chapter 14

                He breathed cool air then across the other’s now swollen member. It worked as a good contrast and then earned a soft scrape of the teeth up the shaft. “Yes, sir…” Sebastian sucked as he went down, taking one of the testicles into his mouth and sucking- something he hadn’t done before. But when you were on a bus in front of two horny teen girls who liked to talk about their boyfriends, it was hard not to overhear and possibly learn a new trick or two. He used his teeth again to trail over it and made the same movements to the other before licking back up the shaft and using his long canine tooth to stimulate the open of the urethral.

                A tense cry escaped, James tensing up before being forced back down into an excited relaxation. Another deep-seated moan made itself present from the criminal, the odd feeling of his over-sensitive ballsack in the other's mouth sending jolts of adulated ecstasy throughout his system. The brush of teeth against him was enough to make him wince a little, the pain leaving a sort of stinging feeling behind that James found far from unwanted. As soon as it was there, it was replaced by another, stronger feeling. Tongue up shaft, then teeth elsewhere. James cursed, words English but foreign sounding in such a roughened accent. James cursed quite fluently when he was surprised by how good something felt. 

                He would have been smirking if his mouth wasn’t busy. Sebastian used his lack of gag reflex to his advantage and kissed the salty head before fitting the head inside his mouth. The man sucked hard before taking him deep in his throat and hummed. By this time he had to hold the other’s hips in place and swallowed from time to time. The other was nearly screaming and he kept up his movements quickly. He bobbed his head, alternating between the swallows, hums and the movements. He’d never used tongue before during this and every time he let the cock withdraw, he’d swirl the tongue. If James ever said he was good at blowjobs he’d be a lair.

                Pleasure volleyed up from his heated member at a rapid pace, James not quite able to keep himself under the hold that had usually could. It was amazing, that was something that was true no matter the scenario. Sebastian certainly was brilliant in a lot of respects and James had learnt early on that this was one of them. His breathing came hard and fast, lungs attempting to pool in enough air to fuel the taut, uncontrollable noises that broke free from his chest. Long fingers dug into the duvet firmer, hands jerking as a distinct tearing noise filled in the silence of a breath. Body jerking violently against the hold on his hips, James was struggling to keep himself together while Sebastian quite masterfully sought to drag him down the edge into an orgasm. 

                Sebastian nearly snarled at the other, he was going to drive him off the edge and give him one of the best orgasms yet regardless if he was going to resist it or not. The male reached up and held the base just as James’ started to come. He smirked and sucked on the tip, letting the orgasm waves spread over the other’s body before taking him down his throat and massaging it with his throat muscles while he hummed. The cloth as ripping on the blanket as James’ nails clawed it. He chuckled deep within his throat and took him ‘balls deep’ and moaned. Sending James’ over the edge all over again- and for the second time, he kept him from coming, letting the orgasm wave through him. The sniper let the member pull out and blew on the tip just as his last one finished and kissed the top before letting him come the third and final time. Sebastian wasn’t an old dog after all, he learned a few tricks.

                As a general rule of thumb, James got violent when denied what he wanted and that certainly didn't cease in sex. Despite his brilliant attempt to relieve the absolutely wonderful, torturous feeling of orgasm that threatened to swallow him whole, Sebastian wouldn't let him. His nails dug deeper into the fabric, he squirmed under Sebastian, and more than once, he tried to kick at him. He was frustrated, if the near-screams, grunts, and cries didn't make that as obvious as day. The pleasure burned through his entire system, but it wasn't good enough to satisfy. Sebastian was brilliant, skilled with his body in almost the same capacity as his gun--sometimes James wondered if more. His body tensed, again, through a third orgasm, shaking and whimpering and-- James screamed, body tight as he finally was allowed release, hips jerking relentlessly before his body pitched him back down, spent. 

                A firm hand that he hadn’t been using before- or rather to just support himself- reached out and held his thighs down now he would kick him and make his injury worse. He licked his lips as the spurts of white went down his throat fast. Sebastian swallowed it like ‘good tiger’ that James’, if he had been more coherent, would have called him. Afterward, flicking his brown hair out of the way, he let the limp member slid out of his mouth. His back reminded not to move certain ways as he climbed up, laying back beside the criminal. Sebastian’s eyes roamed over the other’s chest, liking the way it moved up and down quickly. His eyes shut and a rather large smirk came over his face.

                Hands still holding to the scraps of the bedding, James was doing everything in his power to come back to himself. Chest heaving, eyes shut, he was vaguely aware of the movement beside him. It wasn't until he finally came back to his senses--sounding less like a dying man--that he even dared to open his eyes. Throwing Sebastian a side-glance, he weakly hit at his chest, limbs like wet noodles far too useless to do any damage. "Fucking bastard," he grumbled, a smirk on his lips all the same. 

                “But you loved it.” He chuckled at the other, who was trying to regain his mind again. His hit didn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought it was going to. Sebastian lay back on his stomach again and watched the criminal regain his breath. “Glad to be of service, boss. Guess you’ll be keeping me around for more than just sniper skills and companionship.”  
  
                "I can't tell fucking up from down, I'll let you know how I feel about it, then," he managed, moving his limbs slowly about. Really, it had been good and his body was certainly feeling it. James chuckled quietly, looking to him. "Well, something like how it used to be before. Kept you around for a good fuck when needs become a little more demanding."   
                 
                “If it’s any help… that way is up.” Sebastian pulled a coy smile and pointed upward. He turned on his side and trailed his hand down James’ bicep. He knew he did well thought he wasn’t going to say anything for the other’s pride. “If I weren’t injured and you wanted to go for another round I think you would need any more incentive.”

                Again, the criminal shoved him, but this time was more gentle than the last. Turning onto his own side with his arm stretched out and head against it, he laughed a little at his proposition. "And I'd be more than happy to take you up on that offer. Alas, you are injured and that's a bit of a problem, isn't it?"

                He winched because he rolled a bit with the movement but didn’t show any other signs it had brushed his back. Blue eyes matching the color of a jewel in the low light followed the outstretched arm upward. “Just give me two or three weeks and I’ll rectify that problem for you…” He didn’t smile on that note, but inclined his head.

                "Easy with that or it'll be longer than 'two or three' weeks," he mumbled, easing himself to sit up. "Don't be in such a rush quite yet. there's still a hell of a path that's yet to be travelled." The words, while sageish and mystical, carried almost as much at face-value. Getting back to where James had found a place would be interesting, especially if they were travelling together, again. Certainly easier than before, but that meant very little. Then, there was the problem of "getting back". One didn't just rise from the dead and reclaim society, not in the world that James had come to call home. It took rebuilding and that could take ages, still.

                “I’ll be fine.” He watched the other move around  and started to laugh softly at his words. “That’s an interesting saying. Have you been into those Gandhi books again?” Sebastian smiled into the bedding knowing the other wasn’t into those types anyway. He thirsted for knowledge, not the feelings of someone else who thought the world could get along. The larger noticed that he was now had a look on his face… “What’s going on…” He asked softly with an eyebrow raised at him.

                His upper lip curled back to reveal his teeth, expression utterly repulsed. "A man that self-aware and intelligent and yet he chose to live like that. It's an utter waste of genius." He rolled his shoulders as if to roll the very thought off of his back and away from his thoughts. Distracted, again, he was vaguely surprised by the curious note in Sebastian's voice. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he turned to his laptop, closing the lid. "Just a long way to go, still. A lot of things to... ponder."  
  
                “True…I always thought he was just interesting.” Sebastian watched the other’s body language. Not taking the time to do it for some time except for quick glances. It was like relearning to ride a bike- oh that was a terrible pun even to him- it was more like… watching a raven or a snake or some cross in between. The other turned away and Sebastian traced the bones in his back with his eyes. He would have to relearn a lot about the other now that he thought about it. At least he remembered the coffee part. “Good thing you’ve always liked to ponder.”

                "You would," he replied, blunt. The other's gaze, though quite obvious, was a welcomed feeling. He'd never say it, the secret kept close to his chest, but the feeling was comforting. Familiar in certainly every way, there was something ground about it. Genius always needs as audience and James had his. "Yes, well, going in to every situation with guns-ablazing, while certainly fun, does tend to be far more of a risk than most are willing to take," he observed, looking back to him.   
  
                “You never seem to mind that I do.” Sebastian took the same tone, raising an eyebrow at him with a coy smile playing across his lips now. When the other turned back to him he blinked innocently as he could. Trying not to give away that he was indeed staring at him. “And why is it a risk with your tiger claws out and fangs sharpened… thirty percent of the time.”

                "Never said that I did mind it," he countered, catching the tail-end of the coquettish smile that flitted across the sniper's mouth. It took every ounce of control not to roll his eyes at him and sigh. A weak chuckle shook from the criminal as he laid back, again, gaze settled onto the man beside him. "Because of the other seventy percent of the time. The unexpected tends to come from the unprepared."

                “Good…” He played dumb and leaned forward to kiss the other before he could comment on the smirk Sebastian knew that he had seen. Sebastian raised his hand to capture his cheek now he could kiss him full on the lips. “Seventy percent of the time I’m distracted.” Another smirk surface again and he raised an eyebrow, “Better to have it and not need it then to not have and need it.”

                A sly smile eased up at the corners of his own lips as he returned a slow, gentle kiss for the other. His fingers passed through the blond hair affectionately before pulling back. "I suppose one could certainly argue that," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "But better still is knowing whether or not one needs it or doesn't and acting accordingly. I'm a bit of a control-freak, you might say." 

                “Argue?” He shook his head ever so slight. “I’ve learned not to argue about you with you.” His lips tingled a bit at the soft kisses. Was it just him or had things reached almost… a calm, almost? Maybe too many nights on the street had made him paranoid- but this seemed more like a calm before a storm. “Are you sure this place is secure…” Sebastian suddenly asked him. “I don’t mind you being controlling….Don’t mind it at all.”

                The criminal sat up, starting to get a little agitated himself. He ran his hands through his hair, a thin smile forced onto his lips. "We're a criminal and an elite sniper, tiger, we're not safe anywhere save within the walls of own place. We do need to leave tomorrow." The man took a deep breath through his nose before exhaling through his mouth. It'd been easy, almost simple to ignore the danger before. Now Sebastian was picking up on it. It wasn't so easy now. "Of course you don't mind," he mumbled, a realer smile flickering at his lips. "You never have. Well, not as of recent."

                Sebastian looked up at him as he sat up in the bed. “Should we go now then? I can handle a car ride fine.” Maybe he was overstating himself… but he could handle it if he needed to. The sniper watched the other have an almost inner monolog- not wanting to interrupt then. “I never minded.” He raised an eyebrow. “It grounded me to be annoyed at you for a bit but I never really did.”

                "A lonely car driving a several hour stretch of highway?" Snorting, he shook his head. "That's almost asking for something to go wrong. Besides, people are far more liberal with their plans and ideas when it's late at night. Daylight seems to chase away the demons in most." He sounded nearly disgusted by that. "Hm?" James laughed. "It grounded you. Now how is one grounded by that?"

                “The night also hides a short- average- sized man and a tall wounded brunet.” He muttered raising his eyebrows, “But I understand, the daylight does allow more people to see us just in case we get cornered again.” Sebastian was mostly thinking out loud now. James chuckled brought him back to the situation. He shrugged one shoulder, “You were more interesting than a whore, more intelligent… you actually asked my opinion a few times instead of giving commands. Not to mention you had your moments where you weren’t a bastard boss and well…” Again he shrugged his shoulder.

                Lip pulled back and eyes narrowed, James gave him a warning look at the comment about his height. Between that and his poignant accent when he was enraged or excited, he'd garnered a colourful assortment of nicknames just as despised as the accent. "Even aside from that. It gives more options for a place of escape or a last stand. Not a lot of places open at this point in the evening," he mumbled, coming back down from his short-lived discomfort. "I'd call it flattery, but that's not much of a comparison," he muttered. "Ah, what can I say? You were the first bloke in over ten years of business to spark any sort of interest. I hadn't had anyone talk back to me before. I wanted to see if there was anything beyond cheek and gun knowledge going on in your skull." His teeth bore down against the inside of his lip for a moment, James shoving Sebastian lightly, keeping his wounds in mind. "And well what, tiger?"

                He held up his hands at the other’s look, “Compared to me, you are short. But in society you are perfectly average and a better hung than most men your size.” Sebastian muttered at the narrowed eyed snarl he earned by the slip-up. Dropping his hands he sighed through his nose, “Last stand wouldn’t really be the best thing to run into either. Plus we’ll have to be careful with transport.” Sebastian didn’t think it would be so easy around the city. At least they had gotten everything taken care of. “You know what you are. I don’t have to stroke your ego that you are better than any whore.” His eyes flicked over him, “I was never the type to just listen though I knew what lines not to cross.” A smirked flashed briefly at the small push, “Well you weren’t a bastard so I liked to be with you. End of story.”

                The expression eased up after a moment, James fixing his gaze ahead. He'd give that to Sebastian, he certainly knew what to say to get himself out of trouble. In that respect, he was smarter than the majority of his former clients. "Flattery will get you nowhere," he warned, relaxing all the same. "No, I suppose that it wouldn't be, but if I'm forced into that decision, I'd like to be given the opportunity to pick my own grounds." At this point in his career, it was naturally assumed that James would die in some kind of flash of gun and smoke. No mourning and no easy death for the wicked. The only question was whether it would be at his own hands or the hands of someone else entirely. The last option had never settled well with James. "Of course you don't have to, you wouldn't be here otherwise," he replied after a moment. "Huh. Barely. There were times where splattering your brain matter across the office wall seemed like a promising idea." James laughed, relishing in the small smirk, even if only for a moment. "Well, then you're a worse judge of character than I thought because I am a bastard. You're just one too so it doesn't show as much."

                “You say it doesn’t get me anywhere but I haven’t had you cut my throat yet.” He chuckled and turned his back to the other. The man played dumb, but he certainly knew what buttons to push and how hard. “We’ll survive. I don’t know for how long. Gods only know how many lives I’ve lost and I’m still around. We’ll wait until morning and then sneak out before the cops decided the little scuttle we got into on the boat wasn’t just friendly fire. At least we have the dogtags back and the chip out.” Sebastian sighed and buried his face into the bed a bit, voice becoming a tad bit muffled. “But you didn’t splatter my brains. That’s because you secretly love me too.” He chuckled at that, turning now he could hear him instead of putting his face back into the bed. “You haven’t made a mural of my blood all over the house just yet.” Sebastian snorted, “Oh I know you are one hell of a bastard- who has bitchy moments- and is a part time asshole. But I’m one too so I don’t mind at all. I might even like it.”

                "Mm, the keyword in that phrase would be 'yet'," he joked, laying back after a moment. It wasn't like James hadn't thought about it before, but he sure as hell wouldn't act on it. Not now, at least. Sebastian's redeeming grace so long ago had been his talent. For all of the strenuous moments that they had, he was fond of the sniper--dangerously so. A smile laced across his features, nodding his head in agreement with his words, something almost enjoyable to the whole of the statement. His hand lifted up the cold metal on his chest, spidery fingers tangling in the durable ball chain. Having them was pure sentiment and James was willing to admit that, but there was a certain sense of security and (he would never say it out loud) enjoyment to having them. Especially now. It was something he'd held onto with no small amount of pride before everything had gone to shit and having them now was like some kind of link to a point when all had been well. As willing as he'd been to give it up and as necessary as it had been, James had never agreed to this kind of backlash. His eyes fell onto the sniper, catching the tail end of the other's response. Not a word was spoken in reply, his shoulders shaking slightly as he rolled his eyes. Idiot. "Again, 'yet'. Act like too much of an arse and I just might." The words empty of any venom. "Might? Pet, I don't think you would have stuck around as long as you have if there was only a might chance that you like it."  

                “Yet… yet… yet…” He smirked and buried his head into the mattress again. “You’re glad I’m here. Even if it is just for blowjobs.” Sebastian sighed softly feeling the fatigue as he watched James touched the chain with his dog tags and then the ghost over the cross. His eyes connected with his and he raised his eyebrows, in the silent question of why his gaze had turned toward him suddenly. “Good thing you like me then because I’m an arse all the time.” The brunet yawned behind his hand. “I would have stuck around- you pay well.” He let the fact slide that James hadn’t paid him in several years and he didn’t ask for payment either.

                The man chuckled softly, shrugging his shoulders in an evasive fashion. "You are rather good at those," he admitted, giving way to that act he could make out most of what the other said to him. "I'll even go as far as to say the sex in general isn't bad. I guess." That might have been the biggest lie James told the entire evening, the truth of it evident by the smirk of his own. Sebastian's wordless question was answered by a wordless reply, he shrugged his shoulders. Sentiment. "Believe me, tiger, I know that you are," he replied languidly, twisting into a more comfortable position on the bed. "Huh. It's what tends to get the lot of you in the end, even those of you who are absolutely against everything I do. I do pride myself on being able to afford a hefty price for employees." Well, he used to be able to, he reminded himself bitterly. "As fun as it is to watch you struggle to stay awake, you should get some rest."

                He snorted playfully shutting his eyes. “I damn well better be by now.” Sebastian was getting more tired by the minute and pulled the sheets up around him a bit more. “In general it isn’t bad?” He a gave him a fake hurt look, shaking his head slightly. “Oh my! We can’t have that can we?” The sniper laughed and pawed toward him before kissing his neck, “If I was in better shape and we could afford another broken hotel room.. I’d remind you  that generally I’m quite good.” He knew that James didn’t really mean that he was bad in bed- but it didn’t stop him from reminding the other that he could still be the best romp the other had had in a while. The other mentioned rest and he sighed, kissing his shoulder one last time and going back into his own side of the bed. “I hate it when you’re right.”

                "You've certainly had a good bit of practice with it," he teased, settling down. The bed was warm, he was exhausted, and sleep sounded absolutely blissful for once. Drawn back into the conversation once more, James turned his head to be greeted with the sight of a rather off-put sniper. The touch and the kiss earned a noise of approval, nodding his head. "You can save that for the villa when you're not at risk of pulling out your own stitches," he promised him, pressing a fond kiss to his forehead. Another kiss given from the sniper, James was content to blame it on lethargy, and he crawled onto his own side. "Yes, well, you should be used to it, by now." Reaching out a hand, he tugged off the light and settled back down. James hardly gave it a few seconds before curling up with his back against Sebastian, comfortable. "Good night."

                “Indeed…” He muttered with a small smile, liking the teasing nature they had now. A long time ago the only time they would tease was after they slapped each other around a bit. He raised an eyebrow, “Villa? I’m not going to do anything.” Sebastian closed his eyes into the kiss and smiled gently. “I should be.” He smirked and sighed softly. “We’ll leave tomorrow right? Even if the injury is bad.” He flinched a bit as the other came toward his back and relaxed immediately afterward.

                The criminal swept a hand back through his hair, shifting around to get comfortable. "House, villa--the only real difference is the number of figures it takes to put a deposit on it." Settled and comforted in the bed, James felt his body begin to relax in the knowledge that he was finally succumbing to sleep. "Tomorrow morning," he promised, hoping that it wouldn't come to the injury being a pain. "Staying another night certainly isn't an option." It was hard not to notice the way he flinched, fingers skating along his side momentarily. "Easy, tiger."

                He shifted and nodded, “I’m fine.” Sebastian whispered. He was definitely going to be of use, no matter what he did. It was going to be difficult but he was going to be the best he could at least. The man settled back into the bed and calmed before slowly falling back to sleep. Thankfully he had learned to stay on the better side while sleeping. It didn’t feel long before he felt the bed shift and the sunshine stream in. “We going?” Sebastian asked gruffly from where he was.

                When James woke the next morning, it was still dark and he could hardly make out anything in the shadows. The breathing beside him lulled him into a would-be sense of security as he ran through his the things that needed to be accomplished, the odds faced, and just what was going on. He didn't come up from the bed until the sun began to peek over the window ledge, filling the room with soft light.  _How poetic_. James rolled his eyes slightly, easing up from the bed only to have Sebastian wake. "Soon. I'm going to wash up. Go back to sleep, I'll wake you in a bit."

                Oddly enough, the other telling him softly to go back to sleep didn’t actually make him want to like it usually did. His eyes were wide open and he was looking around making sure nothing had changed. It seemed like he’d only shut his eyes five minutes ago or less… He nodded and sighed, waiting for him to go into the bathroom before getting up and finding his clothing. As usual James left the door cracked slightly and he tossed the blanket off once the shower turned on. What could he say, he was never one for laying around. Sebastian moved about the room, putting what he had into where he needed and carefully putting the hoodie back on. His back was on fire with the movements but at least he could ignore it. For now it least.

                Three years had more than drilled into James' head to be thankful for the shower that he could take. It also gave him a sturdy appreciation for beds, even if sleep was just as elusive as it'd always been. The water, though... James was apt to spend a solid ten minutes just standing under the spray, thankful for the warm water. Muscles unwound and it helped James to get a better grasp of it. Twenty minutes passed before he shut the water off, stepping out of the cubicle to dry himself off. The scars and cuts had healed up, mostly, just evidenced by pearl pink scars, most of them too small to notice. The beast of one across his stomach hardly hurt anymore, but gave the appearance that it might. Shuffling out to get dressed, he cast a look over his shoulder. "Don't get to rearing to go. Need to clean your back, again, before we get going."   
  
                The other took longer than he expected him to. He still darted about, trying to put things back together and wipe down anything that they wouldn’t be using again within the hour. Sebastian heard the other come back out and strategically placed himself on the end of the bed, the main bags that they wouldn’t be using packed already. Very briefly his eyes roamed over James back and front, taking in the different wounds that he’d gotten or what had already been there. At the words he stiffened a bit but nodded, what a wonderful way to start the morning off…  
  
                Pulling his pants on over and his trousers, with his hair still damp and shirt forgone for the time being. Stepping over to the bag that contained the majority of his medical supplies, James pawed through it. "Lift the back of it up, lay down on the bed, and put this under your face," he instructed, handing his towel off to him. He didn't pull out half of the supplies he'd had yesterday. He was switched up and mostly taken care of, but cleaning it would be a necessity, especially given how infected it already was. 

                He swallowed taking the towel from him. The jacket was pulled up almost to his shoulder since he couldn’t really feel where it was anymore. It was all just one big fire. Sebastian adjusted were the towel was and put it under. He didn’t really know what the towel was for besides biting through the mattress or something. He had more control- His thought died seeing the scratches in the bed from the other night and grunted laying down. Alright, maybe he had less control than he thought. Sebastian laid still, very tense, waiting for the other to start his work on him.

                Hauling up the supplies beside him, James settled onto the man's thighs like he had the night before. Carefully, he dragged his fingers over the edges of the stitching as seen through the bandaging. He could already see in places where it was soaked, the smell of it giving way to Sebastian's body trying to remove the infection. He gave a sigh slowly unwinding the bandage and freeing it. Putting the soiled gauze to the side, James set into immediate work. Right hand on his upper back, James carefully drew the antiseptic-soaked pad across the brunt of it, letting the liquid soak deep down into it. 

                Once again he tensed so much his back popped in two places. He gritted his teeth as the antiseptic liquid trickled into the wound. Sebastian kept his eyes locked forward, body unmoving. Hell it was like a work out when they did this so at least he was doing a little exercise. The smell hit him and he shit his eyes tightly, all of a sudden he was craving alcohol and he pushed down the urge. Not only did he doubt the other would let him near a bottle of anything besides aspirin- even that might be pushing it- he was more than likely going to try to get him to eat something too. Another thing he didn’t really care for.

                The hand on his back coaxed circles into the skin, James continued to work despite the other's tensing. Washing out as much of the pus and dead skin that had gathered in the night, James stopped once the wound was clean as it could be without breaking open the stitches, again. As fond as Sebastian was of the entire system, they'd have to clean him out, again, before they turned in tonight. His body was already creating more pus, cleaning out whatever it believed was still trapped inside of him. Putting the cotton to the side with the dirty gauze, James spread a salve over the mouth of the injury, letting it sit a few moments. "Almost done." 

                He tried to relax but he couldn’t even do that without twitching. The hand was calming at least. Sebastian kept up his lowered lash look toward the seemingly empty abyss as he felt a some sort of liquid- more than likely alcohol- go down his sides and it tickled him a bit. He breathed out a sigh as cool briefly quelled the inferno. Sebastian let out a grunt, “How many times do you think we’ll have to do this again?” He knew the number wouldn’t be small for sure. The infection was set in so it would take a bit to get it out.

                Picking up clean gauze, James started to wrap him up once more, passing the gauze underneath as best as he could without completely jostling the man on the bed. "You don't really want me to answer that question, Sebastian," he informed, sealing it up once he was finished. "Because you're not going to like the reply you're going to get. It's awfully infected and it's going to take a hell of a lot of time for it to flush out of your system." Throwing the materials back into the bag, James packed up the last of the things. 

                He lifted himself up for the other. Despite being cut to shreds at least he still had fairly good muscle control. Sebastian laid back on the bed listening to him and sighing softly through his nose. “I expected it to be a lot…” One shoulder rose and fell, “How bad is it… you said it’s awful but that could mean a lot of things, boss.” He breathed slowly getting up from the bed and pulling the hoodie back down over the wound. The fires of Pompeii were back but he could ignore them. “Where are we going?” He asked slipped his boots back on and lacing them as best he could from where he stopped to put them up on the dresser top.

                "It's going to be a couple of weeks of doing this and a few weeks more until it's actually healed," he explained, pulling up the duffel onto his shoulder. Plucking up the keys, the room card, and his coat, he nodded towards the door and waited for Sebastian to get up off of the bed. "The villa. It's a few hour drive, but not too incredibly terrible," he explained to him, lifting a shoulder up and down in a shrug of his own. "It's in a town outside of Naples. Nice people who don't ask about weird things going on. The usual." 

                “Wonderful…” He muttered popping his ankles and knuckles quietly. “I knew it would be a good amount of time. I just didn’t know how long. I’ll deal with it.” Sebastian hated the fact for a _few weeks_ would be the amount of time his damn back took to heal. He already was starting to feel useless enough as it was. The sniper moved immediately to get up and walked out. “Villa.” Sebastian offered to take one of the bags off of him along with the two he’d nearly growled at James for when he tried to pick them up before in the room. “Sounds delightful.”

                The criminal gave a hollow sounding laugh, giving him back the bags and merely rolling his eyes at the hostile reply that came with it. "I don't see another option for you other that to deal with it. Well, one that I find acceptable," he replied, letting the other step out before following him. One hand in his back pocket, it could have easily been a gesture for relaxation, but more of a nervous in, in reality, as his gun was riding comfortably in the top of his denims, but hidden beneath his shirt. "I don't think it's bad. Security system makes it feel just like home. The bed's not bad, either, and there's plenty of room for the accommodations that we found staples at home." 

                He frowned, “I’m not that unhappy with it I’m just worried about the down time. I’ve got to find something to do instead of rest and learn how to eat again.” Sebastian muttered and sighed, “Yeah, I know you won’t agree but still. I don’t like downtime and you know that better than anyone.” He moved his baggage around him and let the other go ahead of him. He spotted the gun and was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about it. “I never said it was bad. Villa is bit…tropical sounding… to me. I haven’t had a fruity drink in years.” He quipped.

                Stepping into the lift, he gave a brief nod of his head. Honestly, he did know that better than anyone else. The time spent working together, even excluding the years recent, were more than enough to put experience with that under his belt. James nudged for the correct floor, keeping his foot between the doors until Sebastian followed with his things. "I don't hold much concern that you'll find something to do. My main concern is that you find something to do without me wanting to strangle you for it. Could consider the next few weeks damage control. I know you have your darling first love," he nodded to the case with his rifle in it, "But you're going to need more than that. Would be a good time to do a bit of research on what you need." The corner of his mouth raised up slightly, James chuckling a bit. "I suppose it is tropical. I guess we'll have to remedy that last bit."   
  
                Sebastian made his way inside, setting said riffle down on the floor of the lift. He glanced down at him, “Don’t worry about it. I won’t screw around and fuck up my back any more than it already is. I want to get back to work and if I brake my spine I’m not going to be put down like a dog.” He snorted at the rifle case, “I’ll do the research.” The riffle man looked over at him and smiled briefly, “I’m not going to put on a Hawaiian shirt.”

                He obviously heard every word that the sniper said, chuckling quietly at his promise to not fuck himself up anymore. His expression grew quiet, concentrated at his comment about being put down. Not an expression crossed that, choosing either not to think on it or not to allow it to cross his mind. "If you behave well enough," he finally said, "I'll even let you use the laptop for that." It was a joke, James almost as protective of his electronics as he was of his vintage Bee Gees album. Well, had been. He frowned. "Hm?" James laughed as the doors opened. "Oh come now, tiger. Your taste in style's already questionable, adding that might just be the straw the broke the camel's back, so to speak."

                “Oh really, you’d let me on your prized laptop.” He had to smile more at that. “Maybe I’ll teach you how to shoot if you teach me how to open an internet browser.” Sebastian exited the elevator and stepped into the lobby. He hadn’t gotten much of a look at it before since he had been enthralled with the other and feverish. “I’d hate to break it’s back as well. Oi, you like me in suits. I don’t think it’s that bad. I make leather look sexy.” He smirked at him before retaining the stone soldier once more.

                "Given our respective track-records, tiger, I've a better chance at developing a wicked aim than you do of being able to function a computer without me having to hover over your shoulder and help," he reminded, leading towards the front desk. Keeping in step beside him, a low chuckle breezed from his lips, James raising a hand to playfully ruffle at the man's dark hair. "Mm, yes. I love how you look in a fitted suit. And you do certainly have a way with leather I've never seen on an individual, but the suits are my choice usually. You're many things, Bastian, dear, but a man of high fashion might not be one of them."   
  
                “You never know. I might suddenly become magical and learn a computer better than you. Perhaps I’ve been playing dumb this entire time.” He joked with him listening to the counter girl yap about their bill and if they would like a car. Sebastian made a soft growl- it was playful at least. Like a cat who had it’s fur messed up. “I’ll wear that tiger print thong you liked so much on me sometime and see if you lighten’ up on my fashion tastes. I’ll even add in a blowjob.” He muttered into his ear after leaning down a bit. “And if you like I’ll wear the gloves and tail too. Ears are optional.” Sebastian pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his lips.  
  
                James snorted quietly, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian in skepticism. "As good of an actor as you are, it would take a mind far more brilliant than yours to pull something like that or me." Despite the words, his tone was fond. The woman at the desk was polite, or as polite as a woman wasting her existence as a concierge could possibly be. The expression on her face when Sebastian decided it appropriate to set up bargains and purr in his ear made James' back stiffen slightly, trying to pretend that whatever Sebastian was saying wasn't extremely appealing. The hand not signing the receipt for the woman reached back and clenched against the fabric at the thigh of his trousers. "Careful with your threats," he mumbled, collecting his card back from the woman before pocketing it and pulling Sebastian along. "You might end up acting on them."   
  
                Sebastian winced at the nails into his thigh and he laughed softly as the other dragged him away by the arm. He leaned into his ear again, “Has the kitten got a tail in the knot?” He laughed softly and he shook his head, “It wasn’t a threat. Even if it was a threat,” He leaned, “I wouldn’t make a promise I couldn’t uphold.” He grinned, “How about we find another hallway now I can remind you that my mouth isn’t injured.” So what if he was a little… ‘randy’ for right now. They hadn’t had sex in a hell of a long time, the blowjob last night kept his needs at bay but… The sniper winked at him raising an eyebrow.

                That was true. For all that Sebastian was, he was a man of his word. It was an interesting trait of a criminal, to be sure, but it made him a brilliant employee. Good partner, too. "Yes, I suppose you do," he replied lazily. A slow smirk coaxed at the edge of his lips as Sebastian's suggestion to find a hall. As absolutely tantalizing as that sounded, and it did, there was also a very in-control part of James reminding him they had places to be. "You're welcomed to remind me every day until you heal completely once we get to the villa," he offered, shouldering out the door, tone slightly resigned. 

                “I was referring to you as the kitten.” He let a brief smile go over his lips. The smile faded and he shrugged, “Oh alright. I don’t know if it’s going to be every day but a fair few times… sure.” Sebastian followed him and held the door open from behind him. “You sound upset.” Sebastian laughed softly and waited until James directed them toward the car. Honestly he’d forgotten where they went.

                The criminal huffed, leading out towards the car. James gave it a tap of the lock, the alarm sounding, but nothing reacting other than that before unlocking it. "For all of the pet names available to you, why 'kitten' has become mine, I may never know," he admitted, throwing the bags into the boot. A slow smile lingered at his lips when Sebastian put his precious things in. "Oh, come now, with you taunting me like that and a promisingly wonderful blowjob in the balance, I can be more than a little upset about having to give it up because we're being potentially tracked by arseholes." 

                Sebastian waited at the back end when he opened up the trunk. “Because spiders aren’t cute. You’re all sweet and innocent looking until someone pisses you off. And then the claws and teeth put people in the hospital if not dead while you claw their eyes out. Plus you purr.” He closed the lid and raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t taunting, I was telling you I wanted to…” A mischievous smile came to his lips, “apply a wet hot cavern over a long hot dick.” He chuckled at the look on the other’s face. “Don’t worry, you know me. I can shoot a gun without my back.” Sebastian turned on his heel and went to the front passenger seat. He didn’t say which gun he was referring to.  
  
                James laughed quietly at his vivid explanation. He supposed that was a good enough description, if there was ever going to be any. His appearance always made him the unassuming one. For that reason alone, he loved being able to prove them wrong. Left to his own devices, he was a sadistic bastard, not that Sebastian didn't know that. He opened his mouth to reply when Sebastian's reply gave him a hard time swallowing. He shifted slightly before narrowing his eyes at him. He opened his mouth to question it before shaking his head and getting into the driver's seat. "I swear, keep talking like that and I'll give you a reason to have a sore back." 

                He laughed at the other’s words and licked his lips slowly in his view before carefully putting his back to the seat. Sebastian winced but at least it would work for now. “I’d rather have my mouth sore. My back won’t be too kind to me if we do that.” He shrugged gamely narrowing his eyes at the sun when they pulled out. “Couple hours worth of drive, correct?”

                Raising a hand, he shoved at Sebastian. He was at better ease than he'd been the past few weeks, happy to have Sebastian back. Granted, he wouldn't say it in words, but he'd be more than inclined to prove it later that evening. "Keep acting like that and I might just forget my care for your back," he teased, nodding at his following question. "You'd probably be smart to pull the seat back and catch some rest. It'll be awhile." 

                Sebastian laughed looking up at him from across the car. He smiled shaking his head liking the way James was playful instead of hitting him up the side of his head because he pushed on the subject. The sniper made a fake look of shock and horror before putting his hand near his mouth and gasping. “Oh no!” Sebastian shook his head, “I’ll stay awake for a bit I don’t think I’ll fall asleep that fast.” Though no more than thirty minutes later, Sebastian was snoring beside him.


	15. Chapter 15

                The sound of amusement that came from James might have been rude, but it was quite genuine. "You really are something else," he muttered, letting the conversation fall dead. It wasn't until they were back onto the main road that he looked over, pleased to see Sebastian effectively gone from consciousness. He didn't even bother waking up the man, letting him sleep in the car as he refilled and nicked coffee and shitty rest-stop food. Getting back in, he did his best not to rouse him on the other half of the drive to the villa. 

                His head was all the way back with his throat fully exposed as he slept a dreamless sleep. Every now and then he’d mutter in his sleep about something. The two most bizarre were the mumbled words ‘unicorn’ and ‘dobby’ and ‘lotion’ that earned a good weird look or two. There were even a few twitches but nothing that woke the other up. Sebastian’s back didn’t seem to wake him or James getting back in the car. About a quarter mile from the villa the sniper jerked awake and looked around to see the other. “Shit… how long did I sleep…” He muttered hissing and moving now his back wasn’t touching the chair.

                It was like watching an animal dream, wondering about the strange things that were going on inside of his head and, if his mumblings were any kind of clue, they were very odd. The silence wasn't unbearable, though, James more than happy for the quiet that gave him ample time to think. Almost home, or what would be home, he heard Sebastian stir beside him. A thin smile beckoned at his lips, but he didn't turn his attention off of the road. "It's been about six hours. Maybe a little under," he afforded with a shrug of his shoulders. "How's your back?"

                “Damn it, I didn’t want to sleep.” He muttered rubbing his eyes and looking around at the darkened skies. The greenish blue light of the car’s dashboard sent an eerie glow over their features. Sebastian slowly settled back into his seat shaking his head, “The usual.” Leaving it for the other’s imagination. Currently, if he were in a more sarcastic mood, would have claimed it was between Mount Doom and Dante’s Inferno.

                "Dammit, you're catching up on rest that you undoubtedly didn't get while you were suffering with an infection and playing spy for six months," he tutted, turning down a side-road. "What will you possibly do?" He gave a nod of his head at Sebastian's reply. He'd let the other some time to the villa and other things before trying to redress it, again, that evening. "Apparently not enough to wake you. That's good."  
  
                For a moment, Sebastian nearly pouted at him. “I hate it when you are right sometimes.” He shifted, “I could have helped drive or something. You’re tired too.” After a few moments he sighed, “I wasn’t even tired getting into the car. Are we almost there?” He asked as they took a side road.

                "Sometimes? You wound me," he replied, getting closer to a gated building. "Yes, but you need your rest more than I do. I've had time to take breaks and rest these past six months, I doubt that you have." Reaching up his free hand, he rubbed lightly at Sebastian's cheek. "It's okay. And, yes, that up there's the villa." Pulling in through the gate, the bars parting at a tap of a button against the roof of the vehicle. Another tap of a different button, they rolled into a garage and James allowed himself a small smile. "Home."   
  
                “I only hate it sometimes. Not that you are right sometimes.” He looked up at the gates and mumbled his compliance. This place was definitely intimidating. Sebastian turned his head in the other’s hand as his thumb brushed over his new scar. “It’s nice. Very Moriarty.” The got out of the car and stood up, trying not to stretch his back but his arse was definitely numb as could be.

                "That's better." Shutting off the engine, he pulled the keys from the ignition as the garage door shut. Stepping out of the vehicle, he smile at his words, taking them as a compliment. "I thought so," he admitted, stretching himself out until his back and shoulders popped. Shutting the car door, James walked around and retrieved his things from the boot. "I have the next two months to do renovations on it. The security system is already up and ready. I'm going to have to program you into it, however. Other than that, she's a right place." 

                He listened to him intently and moved back to the trunk as well. Sebastian swallowed his yawn and looked around the garage. “Sounds good to me. Renovations like traps and cameras?” He muttered seeing a lack of them as he followed him into the building further. The term home sounded so foreign but needed for the two of them. “How am I going to be programmed into it?” He asked softly, suddenly wondering if there was some sort of system to shoot him on command…

                Opening up the door into the house, it lead into a small hallway that opened up into a rather lavish kitchen. Even if James didn't cook that often, he liked having enough space to work if hell froze over and he felt the need to. It was lavish, even if it lacked a stove and a microwave for the time being and the countertops were missing. "The rest of it will be here at the end of the week," he informed. "Cameras are set up and minor trappings. More things like that, certainly. Also rewiring." He shrugged and lead into a similarly managed dining room before stepping into what would eventually be the sitting room, laughing. "So that you can get in and out of the house without a problem. There's no key, it's all retinal and biological scans, mostly. Also to turn on and off the security system." 

                He looked around at the house with wide eyes. Sebastian knew the other loved to have a lot of space but god, this place was really nice. He followed him through and glanced at the counter area. If the builders needed an extra man he’d help- without James knowing. “Looks good so far.” His eyes glided over the best places to hide weapons and passage ways if they needed it. Sebastian looked to James, “Good time to mention not to use the old retinal scans you probably still have of me. I had… to do some changing to my eyes while I was playing ‘secret squirrel’ as you would call it.”

A smile slid onto his face, taking in Sebastian's reaction warmly. He stepped into the hall and foyer that had a pair of stairs that lead up to where the bedrooms and soon-to-be office all were located. "It'll look better, soon. Going to give it a re-paint. All you see right now is four weeks worth of work. It was nice to be able to keep busy." He nodded, setting his things down to briefly paw through them. "That's why I didn't want to use the former ones. Nothing for you is in, yet. I didn't want to risk having corrupted files, anyway. I tried to retrieve information from my older server. Apparently, I was too smart in putting up and anti-upload feature."

                “You still have great tastes…” He muttered going up the stairs after him and peeking into the spacious office. “So am I a bed warmer or do we have separate bedrooms.” They had been like that in London. They slept in James’ bed but he had a separate bedroom. Sebastian wasn’t very sure if they were at that point in the relationship if they were just going to have one bed room or not. “Blessing and a curse with your level of intelligence.” He muttered looking up and down the hallways.

                Pulling out his laptop, but letting the rest of his things to rest until morning, he followed up behind him and chuckled. "You've been with me for how many years and you're just figuring that out, now?" he teased. James stepped into the bedroom. It wasn't much, similar to how his in London had been. There was a bed, a dresser, a closet, an adjacent loo, and a side table on either side of the bed. "I'm up for you playing bed warmer if you're not attached to having to leave the room to go get your things," he assured, watching him as he looked around. "Well, a bit of both, with that. After a year of inactivity, it'll eventually wipe itself away with not even a trace." 

                “Not just figuring it out. Just remembering why I let you decorate.” He muttered coming into the other’s room. Sebastian watched him for a moment and leaned on the doorframe, head turned a little to the side. “I’m fine with that. So we are staying in the room then?” Sebastian shook his head, realizing his words were jumbled, “I mean, staying together in one room then.” His eyes found the computer, “Don’t think you can save any of your previous files then at all?”

                "What can I say? In another life, I could have been an interior decorator." He snorted at the fact, shaking his head. As fun as it was and as relaxing as putting his entire attention on something that wouldn't alter the events of history if he botched them up, he couldn't imagine doing it for a living. His ideal interior decorating was painting someone's brain across a wall at a single word. James started to ease his jacket and shirt off, muscles stiff. "Yes, we are, unless you're going to revert back to a secondary school boy, stuttering over his words." He smirked, but the expression diminished fast. "No, not at all." 

                “It would fit you. Well. One side of your unknown-ogon personality…” He shrugged on shoulder that wasn’t pressed into the door frame. Sebastian knew all too well that the other preferred blood than paint. He didn’t have much differing tastes as long as the men were his enemies. The sniper let his eyes roam over the other’s chest briefly and shifted. “Erm… well… Uh…” He frowned at the other, and made a face that clearly said he didn’t like being called a school boy. “We’ve never actually had the same room. You’ve always stayed in my bed or I in yours. We never actually had one room to call ours.” Sebastian shrugged again like it didn’t mean anything… though in a way it did when it came down to their relationship other than boss and employee. 

                "It would be a clever cover-up for a serial killer, you have to admit. They let you so willingly into their homes, copy the keys whilst you're doing other things. Hm." James looked thoughtful as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his shoes off. A chuckle sounded from the man, raising his eyebrows in amusement at the hemming and hawing coming from his sniper. "That's true," he admitted readily. "But I don't think we've ever been this serious, either." He perched his chin on his knee, for a moment, gathered in thought. For awhile, he was silent, eyes wide open and stare intense on the floor. Suddenly, he clicked back into reality and blinked. "Does it bother you?"

                “That would be definitely something to throw off anyone looking for you. Practice your feminine voice and go around shouting about how green is such a creative color but red would look better.” He smiled faintly at the idea as he watched him remove most of his clothing.  Sebastian looked up at him as he acknowledged that they were in a much more serious relationship than before. It… it was strange to say the least. They had always been a couple of sorts. But then again they had never been that close either. Now they were. Sebastian was off in his own train of thought when James spoke again. He looked up, shaking his head in the silent negative before reaffirming it. “No, actually. I like it.” His voice was softer than before as he looked over the other, offering a reassuring half smile.

                He snorted quietly, adjusting himself on the bed with his arm tucked behind his head. His free hand came up, toying with one of the chains around his neck. "Hush, don't give in to the stereotypes. Not all interior decorators need to sound like they're permanently scarred their vocal chords," he minded, though he hardly cared. He returned the smile with a dip of his head, sitting back up after a moment. "Well, good. You know, since this is your room, too, you can actually step in it. I mean, you don't have to stand beside the doorframe all night. Hell, you could stand in the loo, sit on the bed, lean against the dresser." 

                Sebastian chuckled lowly watching the chain of his dogtags glint in the low light. His blue gaze went back to the other’s face. “It would give me a laugh if you sounded like that to a few people we didn’t know. It would add to your ‘harmless’ demeanor until you wanted to strike. It’s like putting a raindrop hat on a spider. It makes them cute when they are most certainly not.” He cocked his head to the side, before rolling his eyes at what the other said. “It’s a comfortable place to lean.” Sebastian muttered and came to sit on the bed, leaning over to the kiss the other before he could comment on any other place to stand, sit or lean.

                "Yeah, sure, it'd give  _you_  a laugh, but I would quite effectively lose whatever dignity I had prior to that." He paused for a moment, expression gathered. "Maybe the next time that I play dress-up for a heist. I almost considered it with the entire 'Jim from IT' bit but that would have just been over-kill." He was rather proud of that entire ensemble and how it had panned out. It was the first time, too, James had been able to convince Sebastian to let him use his tags. James opened his mouth to respond before it was smothered with Sebastian's. A smile pecked at his lips, raising a hand up against the back of Sebastian's head, returning the kiss gladly. 

                “But it would get you in to whatever building you needed and I do like it when you play dress up.” He joked thinking back to Jim from IT as well. They’d have very wild sex after that. Something about dressing up as different people was a turn-on for Sebastian. There was one time when- he blushed even thinking about that time and refocused on the kiss. He pulled back a smile still on his face. “Shush.” Sebastian told him and brought his own hand up his neck, kissing him again, only with a little more passionate involved than to just quiet the other.

                 A giggle sounded at Sebastian's admission, own thoughts travelling back to being stuck in an office for the first time in years with Sebastian from "Human Resources". It was one of James' certainly more fond memories. His laughter was covered up by the kiss, relaxing into it. Part of his giddiness wasn't even the ridiculous conversation. It was the first taste of normality and how he'd missed it. Home, or what would become one, without having to be on the run. James in charge of what happened next. Long fingers coiled into the dark brown hair, more than willing to put fire into the gesture. 

                “You know I really liked your office… and that desk…” He whispered to him, pulling back for air. Sebastian brought his elbow to support him as the kiss deepened drastically. The lips pressed up against his very willing for once and for that he was glad. He tossed all thoughts of his back out the window and supported himself on one elbow as the kiss grew to his free hand roaming a bit. It swept down James’ naked torso and came back up to his neck again.

                "I think you liked the fact it was easily cleared better," he quipped before taking in a quick inhale of breath. This pattern was always so easy to fall into. The pair of them could be at each other's throats one moment, but this always came without struggle. James was thankful for that. Fingers gave a generous tug at the hair at the back of Sebastian's neck in reply as the calloused hand travelled across his chest and stomach. A low purr of appreciation sounded, not shy about showing Sebastian that he did like it. 

                “I did like that. I was even nice enough to remove your laptop from the desk first before sweeping the rest of it off. And you had blinds that worked very nicely. The copy room saw us too.” He breathed into his ear and licked his lips gently. Sebastian growled softly as the other tugged his hair and swallowed. Moving his mouth to the other’s throat, then chest, brushing his hands over the other’s body and back slowly. “I think we should… do something… other than sleep.” Sebastian whispered to him, eyes darkened.

                James laughed quietly, nodding his head in agreement to that. Even if Sebastian didn't understand James' obsession with electronics and vice-versa with his guns, they both knew better than to harm the other's. A colour crept up his throat along with a groan that was only partially from the breath on his skin. "I got so much hell for that," he mumbled, head falling back as Sebastian made a poignant effort to mouth along places that had no right to be as sensitive as they were. "A brilliant deduction, tiger. I can concur. The question is what," he breathed, taking immense joy in Sebastian's expression. 

                “But you enjoyed it.” He breathed and lowered his mouth to James’ nipple. Licking it with hot strokes before lowering himself to place hicky marks all over his stomach. “I don’t care… Role switch?” He asked softly to him.  Yes. They hadn’t done that before. But were they not at that ‘point in the relationship’....? He was nervous too but sex was something nether of them had had for a bit.

                He hummed in response, nodding his head in fervent agreement. Very much so. The majority of IT knew that, too. A groan of pleasure rose up from somewhere in the pit of his stomach, James sighing. At Sebastian's question, he lifted his head, surprised. "Role switch?" he repeated, not against it in the slightest, merely surprised. It wasn't exactly anything new to James, it'd just been a hell of a while. 

                Sebastian looked up at him before moving up enough to kiss him, “I trust you.” He muttered, putting a lot more into it than he actually said. Unfortunately in the bedroom, Sebastian had often liked to take control and snap the reigns, relinquishing them was something nearly unheard of. He looked at the other, swallowing and letting him take control.

                James made an effort to reply because his lips were effectively covered with Sebastian. It was certainly more than he'd expected from the other, the kiss docile. It wasn't that James had no idea how to take control in bed--he'd been surprised the first time with Sebastian that anyone challenged his rule--but now, it was like trying to relearn a bicycle. He caught an intake of breath through his nose, pushing the kiss along with more gusto. Tongue pressing out from the familiarity of his own mouth to Sebastian's, he allowed himself time to calculate. A hand felt firm on Sebastian's back before tipping the pair of them over, James now perched on top of the other. 

                Sebastian relaxed as much as he could for the other as he the kiss turned from flames to a gentle coaxing sort. He kept his eyes low and raking over James’ torso. There was a brief moment that he raised up to toss off his shirt. The tiger tattoo in plain view now. He lay back as the other switched their positions. Sebastian sucked on the invading tongue and flicked the tip, his lips curling a bit at the other’s surprised. “I know you hate surprises but this wasn’t so bad.”

                Long fingers grasped along the scarred up torso. An appreciative smile crossing his lips as his fingers sought out the dips and twists of it. The places that weren't scarred were far out-numbered by the places that were. James wasn't used to that and couldn't tell if it excited him or annoyed him. He enjoyed the scars, the dips and twists of glossy skin beneath his fingers, but they were far more appreciated when they were his own. "I hate surprises when I'm not in control," he corrected, drawing his tongue back to press an open-mouthed kiss to Sebastian's before dropping his head to mouth along Sebastian's throat and shoulders. "The only thing keeping me from slicing you up right now is your substantial blood loss..."

                Some would be bothered by the threat that their boss loved to carve them up…. But to Sebastian it was sort of a brand for people to know that he was James’ and only his. It was almost like marriage. James had a few scars from him as well. His breath hitched as the other’s fingers found that spot on his hip that he knew was a good place to get a rise out of him. Sebastian breathed out slowly, calming himself underneath the other again. “You can carve the J.M. later without fuss from me.”

                A low, rapturous laughter stemmed from the criminal as his fingers coaxed around the spot with practiced ease. Even after a good six weeks since their last romp, it wasn't hard to get back into the swing of it. "Oh, I plan to," he purred as teeth made hard contact with the sinewy, compact muscle of Sebastian's neck and shoulder. His jaw locked against the spot, fingers still flirting on his hip, until he could taste a sheen of metallic blood. 

                He hissed as teeth sunk into his shoulder. Sebastian got off on pain just as much as James did, though it was particularly his pain all the time. The hip eased him into quiet bit his nails found the other’s back immediately. Another reason he called him kitten. He liked to bite and claw while the sniper mainly used the latter. His head hit the bedding, watching the other lick his lips.

                James was very much a sadist, his line of work almost demanding it from him. Finding a masochist had been the difficult task, but Sebastian certainly had risen up to the challenge. And he loved it. A chuckle sounded as he let the other's nails dig in, tongue lapping at the beading blood on his skin. The red organ swept across his lips, coating them in crimson fluid. His nails eased up from the crook, long fingers caressing down the expanse of  Sebastian's trousers and across the slowly building tent there. James smirked. 

                That was one thing about Sebastian Moran, he rose to whatever the challenge was set for him. He licked his lips slowly and hissed again at the tongue going onto the wound and then fingers prying into his erogenous spot on his hip and then going across his still sheathed in his pants. It quickly hardened under his ministrations and Sebastian snarled softly. His nails leaving angry red marks on James back as the blood came down his shoulder. “Vampire…” He muttered spotting the red.

                His laughter was soft, but quite genuine. One of his favourite games to play with the sniper was over-load, saturating both his pleasure and pain sensors until he was practically suffocated by the feeling of it. He adored it. There was yet to be found anything that compared to a writhing Sebastian Moran--and he'd tried to find it before. "Certainly pale enough for it," he admitted, pressing against the string of nails breaking his superficial skin. His reply was to press the palm of his hand hard against Sebastian's clothed erection, taking pride in the varied response. 

                It drew a pained huff out of him as he laid there underneath the devil’s touches and small bits of torture. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so eager with letting him take the new role… The hand on his clothed cock changed his mind immediately and he laid back. “That you are.” He muttered, strain in his voice as nails broke the skin and beads of red spilled out. The palm earned another growl, this one louder.

                Another giggle of amusement trilled from the consulting criminal, grouping the whole of his hand around it. He was fine, rolling and toying with the man through his clothing until he felt the skin break and blood drip down his back. James gasped, a slight moan breaking from his own lips, looking back to Sebastian with a less amused expression. Usually, he'd have been far more upset about the marks on his back. Back in London, the rules were always stricter. "Funny enough, I haven't even gotten you undressed, yet," he mused, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers. 

                He groaned, his cock twitching in the other’s grasp as he held him through his pants. It was just plain rude to do this to him without his dick even being out of his trousers. Sebastian brushed the blood onto his hands before licking it off his fingertips slowly, eyes focused on the other. The little fucker wasn’t going to jack him off without him getting a little sexual frustration on James part as well. “Well then I recommend ridding us both of them.” He said, sending out a long tongue to wrap around on of his digits.

                Dark eyes kept a half-lidded and certainly invested gaze as Sebastian took his time making the act of cleaning his fingers far more appealing than it really should have been. His own tongue laved across his lips, back tingling in delight as his own blood continued to drizzle across his skin. "Oh, I don't know," he admitted, giving his trousers a tug before reaching a hand under Sebastian to help him lift his hips. "It's almost more fun to watch you squirm nearly fully dressed. Mm, just relax." A wicked smirk on his lips, James dropped his head down, using his mouth to help his free hand tug Sebastian's clothing down, the other keeping his hips up. 

                Sebastian grunted trying to help him hold his hips up but he couldn’t hold himself up with his back. The other told him to relax and he stopped trying to lift his hips. James could easily hold his lower half and it surprised him honestly. He let the jeans come off and the other tossed them on the floor before removing his own. Sebastian found his pillow and brought it closer to put under his back. If they were going to go that direction to night then it would soften the blow greatly. “I am relaxed…” He muttered.

                "Don't look so surprised," he chuckled once his mouth was free and clothes to the wayside. He took a moment to shift himself out of his own clothes, putting far less fancy into it. Denims and pants came off in one fell swoop, James only pausing for a moment to make sure blood hadn't gotten on them before letting them drop down to the forgotten wasteland of the floor until morning. "Good," he assured, helping Sebastian with the pillow underneath. Once he was settled, fingers traipsed up and down the man's inner-thigh with barely noticeable traces, face gathered in thought. "How inclined are you to believe that you can keep yourself under-control?"

                “I’m not surprised at you I’m just wanting to hold myself up.” He grunted watching the other strip before licking his lips. His cock was half hard already and his eyes wouldn’t stay attached to James face. They hadn’t done this with him being the bottom before… James were the type- or at least for as long as he’d known- had liked to rule from the receiving end. His muscle quivered underneath his touch as he looked over the other’s body then found his eyes again. “I’m trained to be the best right? I can handle being the catcher for a couple months…” The sniper muttered.

                His body hummed with arousal, own body giving way to the fact he was pleased with the position he'd landed himself in. His touch brushed higher and higher up his leg, fingers flirting up over the cloth to the waistband of his pants. "Not quite what I meant. I'm quite aware that you'd be capable enough to, ah, handle being catcher. I'm more worried about if you're able to keep still for a couple of minutes. While the events at our hotel previously were delicious," he rolled his shoulders a bit at the memory, "You're hardly in a condition for rolling and rutting." 

                “It thought you knew how this works, love.” He chuckled airily feeling the hand go up slowly and send goose bumps up his leg. “Give me and order and I’ll obey it on command.” Sebastian told him, holding as still as he could as James’ played with the edge of the cloth. His eyes were darkened and so were his. Honestly he’d just wished he’d fuck him already but he /knew/ the other wanted to torture him just a bit longer.

                "Then don't fucking move." James kept a careful watch, still toying with the warm skin, just barely avoiding the juncture of his inner-thigh and his hip. He was always the one to play with his food, first. It made sense that it transversed into other areas of his life. Finally taking mercy on the poor bastard, James came forward, giving a tug on his pants until they were long gone off the bed. Fully exposed, he gave the head a teasing lick, smirking at the taste of it, the wheels in his head visibly turning. 

                “Yes sir.” He breathed, now almost on the edge of panting. Sebastian wanted to squirm but he knew how to take an order. He knew how to take orders. It only took a few moments for him to be tense and felt himself twitch to full hardness as James’ licked him. He calmed himself, waiting for him to do more. Not sure if he was even allowed to moan or pant since that required his chest to move or lips.

                Sinister laughter bubbled up from his chest, taking absolute joy in the way that Sebastian's entire body fell into rigid tension to follow James' order. He was quite convinced that he could order him off of a cliff and Sebastian would do it. Either blind stupidity or mindless faith. Both were equally frightening. The flat of his tongue marred a long time from the base surrounded by the course, dark blond hair to the very tip, his mouth resting there as breath ghosted over the moist skin. "I'm almost tempted to see if I can unravel you just like this," he purred, long fingers stroking firmly over the darkened veins that stood out against the man's member. "It'd be fun as hell." 

                He didn’t say a word, just waiting for the other to touch him. His mouth was going to undo him, but he wasn’t going to break his command. That was the best part about Sebastian besides his loyalty was his obedience. He didn’t make sound or move beside shutting his eyes tightly and trying to slow his breathing as James did things to him. Hands were still gripped down into the sheets.

                That had been an absolute chore in the beginning, getting Sebastian broken in. There were times, too, that the sniper required reminding. But, for the most part, he was his darling, obedient tiger. Another long licked stemmed the length of the shaft before topping off over the head. Cold air hissed over it for a moment before James was merciful enough, wrapping his lips around the tip lightly and giving a suck for Sebastian. 

                He swallowed hard and had so much tension in his features that he could probably rip his skin off his muscles. Sebastian wanted to whine or pant, but only his breathing through his nose was coming quicker. His bit the inside of his cheek, keeping quiet and still and trying so hard to behave it hurt. Finally a whimper escaped his throat with his lips sown shut as the other sucked him.

                 Sharp teeth were met with the sensitive flesh the moment that the sound broke free. Grazing down over the head and down the shaft, James went all the way down on him before rising back up, again, tongue soothing the points were the bones were met with flesh the hardest. Fingers continued the playing at the base, squeezing and twisting before James wrapped his mouth round, again, and putting more familiarity in the action. 

                He wanted to scream at him to hurry up in fuck him so much it hurt. He swallowed harder and harder, feeling like his entire body was on fire but in a good way. Sebastian bit off the inside of his cheek trying to keep quiet that blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. The man would be coming undone soon. Very soon.

                The taste of the other's tension sent a flurry of delight throughout him. He liked that and the tang of sweat that came with it. James gave another number of bobs before pulling off with a lewd popping sound. Lips redder, he smirked down at him before reaching towards his bedside table. "I really could be extremely cruel and leave you like this. What do you say?" 

                Sebastian looked up at him with pleading his eyes, now biting the other side of his cheek. His cock was twitching and he felt James hold him around the base, now letting him come yet. James was terrible like that. He swallowed, his darkened lusty eyes focused on those lips. He let out a whimper.

                The noise from Sebastian was almost pitiful, James surprised at it, if he were honest. Pulling out the small tube that he'd invested in, James made a quick effort in coating his fingers. His hand still hung around the base of Sebastian's cock, thumb pressing circles against one of the veins with a tight smirk. "Spread 'em wide, tiger. Wouldn't want this to hurt."

                He wasn’t going to screw up at all. It wasn’t going to move until he was commanded and he spread his legs, his cock standing at attention. Sebastian watched the lube slowly go down his fingers and his breath quickened. His chest rose and fell, his dick twitching still in James tight grip. Again, he had to calm himself now he wouldn’t spill before the other was inside him. If he fucked this up, no pun intended, James might leave him here.

                The man twisted his hands, careful to keep the substance from slipping too far down his fingers. A low chuckle breezed past his lips, James still placing short strokes at the shaft. James shushed him before scooting closer, knelt between his knees. He gave it a moment, middle finger stroking and pushing at the opening. Giving a mimic of a breath, he allowed the finger to pass in up to the first knuckle. 

                He hissed in pain as the first finger breached him. Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut. No wonder James liked this, it was painful. Not to mention he had a ‘virgin ass’ as some would call it. He leaned his head back on the bed, tension still all over him. At least the lube was cold and helping a lot more than he expected it to.

                Warm, open-mouthed kisses dotted the inside of Sebastian's thigh, black eyes monitoring every movement that the man gave off. "Shhh... It's alright, just relax," he commanded, finger completely still and unmoving inside of Sebastian. He gave him some time, let him relax to the point James wasn't at risk of losing a digit before pushing it along to the next knuckle. 

                He tried to come back and he twitched again in the other’s grip. Sebastian’s grip on the sheets loosened if not only slightly. “I am relax…-Sir!” He whimpered again before the next finger stretched him open made him gasp the last word. Sebastian took deep breaths trying to think of things that usually dampened his mood a bit now he wouldn’t go out of control too early- which he was fighting now.

                "You don't sound it," he teased, doing as he'd done previously. The hand holding tight to his cock moved to Sebastian's hip, massaging the spot he'd toyed with earlier until ht seemed to relax just a little further. The entire of his finger slid in there with a tormented slide, James sighing as the whole of his spidery finger was swallowed by Sebastian's tight rear. "Mm, there we go," he purred, giving it a slight wiggle inside of Sebastian. 

                He was about to give a snarky reply for the first time tonight when he squeezed the base and he  forgot what he was going to say. The spot he hit with his thumb calmed him down a bit more and he let out a slow breath just as he slid inside him. His brow furrowed as it a little easier to take his fingers inside him. He bit his lip, red apparent in his cheeks now. Sebastian froze in place as moved inside him and brushed against a certain spot.

                His finger pressed a little firmer against the self-same spot, happy to have it that close within reach. James sent up a silent praise to his retention of his anatomy knowledge. It'd been years since he'd played this end of being Doctor, but he seemed to remember enough. Dragging his finger out a little further, he pushed it right back in against the self-same spot. "Very good, tiger," he purred. 

                He bit his lip, drawing blood once again to keep the scream in his throat quiet. He moaned and his body went rigid. "Please.." He moaned, the sweat beading across his body now. /Anything/ that would make him go faster.

                A second finger inched in, filling Sebastian up. If he wanted faster, he'd give it. The pair worked together, scissoring and spreading Sebastian enough despite the sounds that came with the pain of it. A third found its way before long, volleying around his prostate rather than dead on. Every once in awhile, there'd be a nudge, but nothing full-on.

                He was gasping for rigid breath by the time he was at three fingers. The teasing was sending him into a sweat and he barely kept his hips still instead of going back on him and letting the other touch him. Sebastian looked at him, lusty and pleading eyes as he continued to bite his lip. He wanted to touch him or be able to cry or move or  _something_. 

                Outer two fingers keeping him spread apart, his tantalizing middle one stroked the warm muscle of his entrance. A hungry look crossed his face, feasting on the battle evident on Sebastian's face. A soft smirk lined his lips as he withdrew his fingers, making a half-hearted promise that he was stretched "enough". Pulling back the bottle of the clear substance, James slicked himself up, giving Sebastian enough of a show of it to keep the sniper interested.  
  
                “Oh please.., please fuck me.” He finally let past his lips in a whine as he saw the other slicking him up. Sebastian was painfully hard and he never thought he was this needy in all of his life. He licked his lips and waited for the reprocution for speaking.

                His hand fell still, eyes dark with the kind of expression that bordered on madness and lust. "Did Daddy say that you could speak, yet?" It was both awe-inspiring and amusing, Sebastian, his obedient tiger, put to the point of desperation, put to the point where he had to disobey his master. Even when he knew the bad things that might come of it. 

                "No-No sir." He moaned and bit his lips again, blood coming down from the teeth marks. Sebastian wanted this too badly and this arse was keeping it from him. It took a lot for him to keep quiet and let him roam like that bastard new he was so good at. He moaned deep in his chest and held himself back once again. It was chant inside his head for the other to fuck him.  
  
                Ordinarily, the other would have taken out the man's disobedience on him, maybe left the other to stew until he was put back down into a forced softened state, but James was too hard himself to neglect him for too long. Slick and ready, James knelt between the man's legs with a predatory smirk on his lips. The head of his cock nuzzled against the man's rear. "Think I should make you wait a little longer?"   
  
                 He let out a long needy moan and watched him just play with him. Sebastian didn't dare speak but he moaned with his mouth closed, eyes glazed in lust. He prayed to whatever sex god that was listening that he could beg and scream during sex at least. Because he needed that vocality. He needed it like air. Even when he was the dominate one, he was groaning, moaning and screaming.   
  
                It seems whatever gods he prayed to gave him a listen. The smirk continued, James stroking the expanse of skin on Sebastian's hip as he watched the other writhe and squirm beneath him. A sigh broke past his lips, rocking the tip of his cock against the man's orifice. "Despite your blatant disobedience, I'm feeling generous enough to let you speak. What does tiger have to say about that?" There honestly was no generosity in the decision, James more or less wanting his own ego stroked by whatever sounds his partner made in bed. Lips hungrily crushed down against Sebastian's, slurping and sucking up the blood that dribbled down the man's lips. There was no gentleness, no care for the initial burn of it at all. The only warnings that came were the press of nails down into the skin at his hips and the shape intake of breath through his lips. Buried deep and fully inside of the sniper, James gave a loud and prominent sound of pleasure, rolling his body continuously against the bloom of heat that sucked around his prick. "God, why the hell didn't we do this before?" he growled. 

                The lips smashing into his so much that teeth clinked together took him off guard long enough for James to thrust inside him. He let out a tiny scream as he buried himself to the hilt inside him. His eyes rolled back into his head and gulped for air. Tunnel vision happened for a split second and moaned out. "I don't fucking know but we're doing it again!" He almost yelled, voice strained, "Jesus Christ!" Sebastian said griping him and his back, eyes shut tightly.  
  
                His body didn't stop moving even as he gave Sebastian the time to adjust. Hips rocked and thrusted down against, cock firmly buried deep inside of the other man. A deep sound came from his throat, lowering his head to bite at Sebastian's own. Long fingers sealed over Sebastian's mouth, eyes blazing. "If you're going to be calling out anyone's name in bed right now, it sure as hell should only. Be. Mine." James pulled his hips back a fraction of an inch, punctuating the last three words with thrusts. "Got it?"   
  
                He swallowed as the hand crushed his jaw shut and swallowed, nodding repeatedly. He just didn't want it to stop, the wise crack that came to mind that of 'Can I say god? Because you are fucking like one.' was shot down before he could even utter the words. He moaned his name as he hit right where he needed to. Sebastian didn't even have enough brain cells to think and hold himself back. The brutal hand gripped and he heard his voice order him that he wasn't allowed to come yet. He nodded and repeated his name as he rode him from the bottom. There was pain in his back but like fuck did he care.  
  
                His hand came off of his jaw, continuing to rock against him. Apparently, Sebastian grew far more impatient than James did, the man moving up and down on James' cock of his own accord. James couldn't help himself but to groan, watching the delicious sight drag and slurp back into his rear. His hips snapped back into him, hard, to which he saw Sebastian's eyes grow wide, an expression he himself knew far too well. A hand clapped around Sebastian's dripping member, keeping a forceful hold on him. "You fucking cum before I say you can and I'll make sure you don't for a week," he growled, meaning the phrase less than he would have liked to pretend. Pulling back, James began to slam up into him, taking the initiative from the man. 

                He whined pitifully and nearly split himself again but the order sent him holding back. Sebastian rutted against him, calling his name and swearing. Tears picked his eyes and blood left his lip. He squeezed himself around the other as he slid up and down, regaining some intelligence to make a power play with him. Sebastian tightened himself and kissed him, rolling his hips up to meet the other thrusts.

                 His mouth greedily sucked the blood off of his lover's lips, biting into the skin when he could. The squeezing and twining and twisting were coaxing noises from the consulting criminal that might not have been human. His hips snapped up violently into the man, finding absolute pleasure in the feeling. His own stamina had dropped measures in the past years and, even, in the past few weeks. He felt himself growing to his own end, but that didn't make him any kinder to Sebastian, hissing and gripping his prick hard every time that he felt the man get anywhere near a release. 

                “James! James- Oh Jamess-!” He screamed out repeatedly and put his nails into the sheets, trying not to rip them but still succeeding somehow. Amazingly each painful thrust sent pleasure along with the pain, beating the Hell out of his prostate in return. Sebastian kept trying to spill but the aching pain of James griping him nearly made his balls turn purple. If he wasn’t bruised in a few places it would be a miracle. “Fuck me- harder-“ Sebastian gasped, “Please sir!” He added it for effect, just to get the other to acknowledge him. His muscles tensed and he roared out a scream as he hit him again in the right spot, nearly drawing blood to the place on his hip with his nail.

                For all of the joy that James had being a bottom to his tiger, Sebastian was making a wonderful argument for James topping. All flushed body, James could only imagine the scenery if he could ever coax his tiger back to the capacity he'd once been at. His hips hammered brutally into his lover all the same, soaking up every moment of it. When the white hot, blinding feeling started to swell from his stomach, James could feel his ending coming. Sebastian was already falling apart beneath him, something that he sure as hell wouldn't get used to. Head dropped, James groaned loudly and let his hand come up off of Sebastian. "Come on, tiger, show me how eager you are," he purred before finding enough mind to bite down onto the man's throat. 

                He was screaming with each powerful thrust hit him in just the right way. Sebastian roared James’ name, even his middle, to the stars as his hands went to the other’s back. Nails went in and he cried out as he felt the orgasm in the other’s muscles. Teeth went into his neck and he came on demand, screaming his name as white came. He hadn’t even realized his fingers had gone into the other’s hair and almost pulled a chunk or two out. Or the new tiger claw marks down his back. There was a moment of hilarity of it since most people would tell if a man was good in bed because of the claw marks on his back. “Jim…” Sebastian finally came down and brought the other’s head toward him, kissing him on the mouth almost completely spent.

                It was heaven hearing his tiger so vocal and so focused on his own orgasm. When the white hot heat subsided and James was left on all four, still buried into his partner, he pulled out of his head with a smirk. Yea. That was a fucking brilliant orgasm. A little sore in places, it'd been a good couple of months since he'd had anything like that, he took a moment to pull out of his tiger. It was to his own surprise, then, to feel Sebastian tug his lips against his own. James kissed him, softer this time, drawn away from the fierce attitude that he'd held up. He could taste the other's exhaustion, a fact that made James chuckle and smile all the more. "Better?"

                The gentle kiss didn’t end for a bit and he when it did he laid back on the bed looking up at him. “I think you broke a few bones.” Sebastian told him breathlessly. Eyes still a little unfocused. His tongue darted out briefly to lick his lips and he shook his head, “I won’t be walking for a bit…” Sebastian told him with a small shake of his head. “…I know that much…”  
  
                "Probably," he giggled, in the most euphoric of moods. Orgasms had always put him in a better mindset, something he'd learnt far too late in his career. Spidery fingers stroked against the man's jaw, smiling at his insistence than he wouldn't be moving for awhile. "Might actually force you to rest, then." Putting another kiss to his forehead, James ambled up from the bed effortlessly. Walking to the loo, devoid of both cum and enough sweat to manage through the night, he took the opportunity to clean the other off before tossing the flannel to the side for a moment. "Think you can roll over?"   
  
                He moved his face into his hand and purred softly, nuzzling his hand.  “It might. Rarely.” Sebastian joked tiredly smiling into the kisses until James stood to walk away. He laughed softly to himself, honestly surprised he’d had this good a time. “I can do it.” He mumbled.  
  
                His hand came up under the sniper, easing him onto his stomach. James was quick to clean him up, gentle in nature as not to hurt his tiger. "Feel better?" he asked, beginning to undo the binding that covered up the man's wounds. The wounds certainly looked better than they had when he'd first seen them, but still looked nasty. He took the time, quickly cleaning them out once more.   
  
                He sighed finally turning around to let the other see his back. Sebastian was almost surprised feeling the other be so gentle with him. Maybe this.... vacation of sorts was good for him. He shut his eyes as James worked over the wound and began falling asleep where he was.   
  
                "Don't conk out too soon," he scolded, putting gauze over it once the wound was cleaned once more. A hand under his stomach forced the man up a little as he bound him back up once more. "Should rest, now," he ordered, rolling him onto his side before taking the things and putting them back into the loo.   
  
                Sebastian moaned softly but stayed awake. He lifted up to help when he felt the hand on his stomach. When James came back he wrapped an arm around him and pulled him to his chest, kissing his neck and cheeks playfully.  
  
                The criminal stumbled down into the bed, laughing as he settled against the sniper's chest. Raising a hand, he stroked his fingers against the apple of his cheek. "Such an affectionate tiger," he giggled quietly, pressing his lips demurely back against Sebastian's own.  
  
                He chuckled lightly and kissed him again on the cheeks and neck, “Thank you.” Sebastian murmured in his ear and kissed him on the lips with a small smile. “You like me when I’m affectionate.”

                His head craned upwards, smiling happily at that. "What can I say? Wouldn't do to have you be catching some nasty infection. And you don't clean it nearly as well as you should." He ruffled a hand through Sebastian's hair before pressing his lips back against Sebastian's. Pulling back, he nodded. "That I do."  
  
                He nuzzled his neck briefly and settled down, “If I could reach it I would clean it.” Sebastian told him softly, the heat of his body spreading to the other despite the chill of the room that was coming back now that they had quit their activity. “Good, cause you’re gonna get more of it.” He purred.  
  
                A hum of pleasure sounded from his lips as James settled in. "There's almost that, admittedly. But you went a hell of a long time without any form of medical treatment on that wound. You're lucky it's not worse." And there was still a chance that it could be, but those weren't the kinds of words to be said when the pair were wrapped around each other so gently. Settling into Sebastian's chest, he curled up against him. "I'd be disappointed if I didn't."  
  
                He curled around him and almost sounded like a purr erupted from his throat. Sebastian kissed James very pale freckles on his shoulders and neck. The tiger relaxed with a chuckle, "I'm lucky. Like that damn cat you bought from the weird Chinese cat who told you to bring it back for your wife." He laughed, "Good cause you're gonna get it."  
  
                "I was checking on a client," he muttered, flicking at the sniper's ear. "And it was rather useful. Carve out the inside, fill it with semtex, and send it to some poor, unsuspecting bastard. Had no idea what had hit him until he was nothing but shrapnel." A fond smile crossed his lips, melting under the light, but lovely ministrations given to him. He couldn't help but nearly purr himself. "You said that, already."   
  
                He laughed, "You sent that to me. Was I supposed to be your first unsuspecting bastard?" Sebastian joked lightly and nibbled on his ear when he dodged the fingers trying to flick at him. He kissed the other again, "Good cause I'm gonna say it again and again."  
  
                "Well, there was nothing in it when I sent it to you. She said my wife would like. I figured my fuck-buddy would work the same way, too," he teased, inclining his head towards Sebastian as the man's teeth dragged against the shell of his ear. Turning back, his lips sealed happily against the other's with a broad smile. "Good."   
  
                “Really…” He rolled his eyes as the other called him a fuck-buddy. “I wouldn’t mind being a spouse though marriage is a crock. Besides you did make that gay guy outfit look fairly interesting. You should try a dress.” He joked dodging a swat. “I’m only joking~ Well about the last part.-“ Lips met his and he purred nuzzling his cheek gently.  
  
                "How many years ago was that, pet?" He asked, giving a roll of his eyes. "You made nothing better than a good bed warmer. That I would admit, at least." There was a soft snort in reply. "Easier to pretend that which you--" Sebastian's last jab earned a swat and a narrowing of the eyes. "Effeminate though I've been called, I am a bloke, mind you," he muttered before being pushed into the kiss.   
  
                “A fair few.” He shrugged one shoulder and shaking his head, “Yeah, until you had a bunch of assholes break in and I shot them for you. Then we moved on to bigger things I believe.” Sebastian smiled into the other’s skin of his shoulder, “Not trying to be crass here but I think you proved that a few moments ago. You are most definitely a bloke.”

                "Certainly bigger. Better might even suitably be placed in there," he admitted, liking the feeling of Sebastian's mouth pressed into his skin. Really, it would take time to get used to, having a partner, again, but James was more than willing and ready to. "And you sure as hell best not be forgetting that," he muttered, bristling significantly less all the very same. 

                He chuckled, "Yeah... Better /might/ fit in there somewhere." Sebastian put his arm around James stomach and breathed out, feeling rather tired from all they had done. "I won't. But I might pretend if I can draw that beast out of you again. Maybe even get out the toys next time."   
  
                A shiver cascaded down his spine, eyes forced close as his body betrayed just how comfortable and warm that he was in the present moment. Humming softly, he gave a roll of his eyes beneath his eyelids. "That certainly would be a mite interesting. Definitely going to want to wait for your injury to heal before that. It'd be almost cruel to subject you to more open sores when you most recently almost died of one."  
  
                He sighed through his nose contently and shook his head ever so slightly. Sebastian nuzzled the back of his neck, "I think that would be best... Open sores might be something we steer clear of for a bit. I'd rather not have another that I couldn't get to." With a sigh he kissed the back of his ear one last time. "We should sleep, kitten."

                "Sleeps boring," he lamented softly, but had to agree all the same. His body was putting up as much of a fight as it could and Sebastian's body was creating a mutiny in chorus with it. His fingers brushed against tanned hand on his body, smiling lightly. "Go on and get some rest, tiger," he breathed, turning his head back to give Sebastian's cheek a kiss.  
  
                "Sleep isn't boring if you get to cuddle." He realized what he said and cleared his throat, "I mean, ya know..." Sebastian couldn't come up with an excuse besides his brain was fuzzy from sex and that wouldn't sound good either, "M'kay..." He kissed him back, purring before hunkering down to sleep. Thus he soon was just that. 

                James couldn't help the laughter that escaped, shoulders and lithe body shaking with the effort of it. Was that really it? Had they become so docile and gentle in their old age. James would speculate otherwise. For all of the soft parts of their relationship, they still had prickles and edges. If anyone tried to step up anywhere near it, they sure enough found out. James exhaled, settling back down against the sniper before forcing he himself to drift off as well.   
  
                 
                 
                 


End file.
